


Family Ties

by EricaX



Category: DuckTales
Genre: Anxiety, Family, Fear, M/M, Married Life, Scrooge and Fenton are married, absent father, childhood fears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6566443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EricaX/pseuds/EricaX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place years after the show 'Ducktales'. Scrooge McDuck and Fenton Crackshell have been married for a month now after having dated a full year e two of them are settling nicely into married life, when Fenton's long lost father, who had abandoned him and his mother when he was small, comes back into Fenton's w poor Fenton has to figure out Scrooge/Fenton<br/>Additional credit goes to Snark N' Moon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Alright, so for those of you diving into this story, there is a few things you need to know. First off, in this story, which is meant to take place years in the future after 'Ducktales', Scrooge McDuck and Fenton Crackshell, after a year of dating, are married. At this point in the story, the two of them have been married a month. So, in case it hasn't sunk in yet, this is a McCrack story. As in, slash. Scrooge/Fenton.

Secondly, credit for this chapter/story also goes to SnarkN'Moon, for she helped with some of the dialogue and the creation of the original character of ours, Doran Crackshell. He is our interpretation of Fenton's unseen/unmentioned father. We came up with the idea that he left Fenton and his mother when Fenton was small.

Doran Crackshell (c) EricaX and SnarkN'Moon

Everything else (c) Disney

ENJOY!

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32 Years Ago

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The little coos of a newborn infant could be heard throughout the apartment as Iva Crackshell held her newly hatched son closely. The little chick wriggled in her arms and the blankets he was tucked into and instinctively moved closer to her for warmth.

Iva sighed deeply, glancing around at her surroundings. The small apartment her and her husband had managed to cling onto rent after rent had seen better days. The last few months had been rough and now that little Fenton has hatched, she didn't see herself having any kind of time. It didn't help they were behind on rent by three months. It seemed she was just waiting for the eviction notice.

Everything was just in a cluttered mess, clothes tossed, boxes half empty and filled with nick knacks and odds and ends. Old newspapers littered the floor. The table in front of the couch was piled with old dishes that needed to be taken to the full sink.

She knew her appearance wasn't much better. Her curly blonde hair was uncombed and dangling past her shoulders. She was dressed in a loose purple shirt and her slippers were mismatched. She badly needed to run a brush through her hair and maybe some clips. And she knew she had a day's old worth of make-up still on her face since she had forgotten to take it off the night before.

Fenton made a little gurgling noise as a bubble of spit appeared around his tiny beak, snapping Iva out of her thoughts. She couldn't help but smile at the little boy; her thoughts turning happier as she watched him blink back at him with big blue eyes. She used the blanket to wipe at his mouth.

It was a shame Doran was not around, Iva thought. He had missed Fenton's hatching. The little boy had hatched from his egg earlier that morning.

As if on cue, the door to the apartment opened and in stomped a middle aged duck who was soaking wet due to the rain storm that was currently happening.

"Whew!" hooted the duck with a half chuckle. He whipped his head a bit to wipe the excess water from his feathers. He was a tall duck with white plumage and the very beginnings of a beard around his chin. His clothes were heavily worn, as though it was the only thing he owned. It was a short sleeved red shirt and a green army vest. "It is raining cats and dogs out there!"

Iva frowned at her husband. "Doran! Where have you been!? You haven't been home in two days!"

Doran blinked at his wife who was sitting on the couch in front of him. "Huh? Oh, oh! Right! I was out."

This only worsened Iva's mood. "I gathered that much, you idiot!"

Doran shrugged off his vest, leaving him only in his red shirt. As he walked closer to his wife, his eyes landed on the little hatchling in Iva's arms. "Oh! And what have we here?" He asked fondly.

"Our son" replied Iva evenly. Her voice was bordering on contempt. "He hatched this morning." Her voice then raised to a higher level as she freed one of her arms from holding Fenton and slapped Doran hard on the shoulder. "You missed our son's hatching!"

Doran flinched and scooted away from his clearly angry wife. "Sorry! I didn't know he was going to hatch this morning!"

"Neither did I, but what did you expect? You knew he would hatch any day and you went and disappeared!" cried Iva, adjusting Fenton so that she was holding him with both arms once again.

"Iva, dearest, you know how claustrophobic I get if I spent too much inside! And I've either been here or working at the factory! I needed some space!" defended the now pouting duck.

"For two days? Where did you even go?" groused Iva.

Doran shrugged. "You know. Out."

Iva rolled her eyes and groaned, holding Fenton closer to her chest. She turned down to the infant in her arms and couldn't help but smile at him. He was snuggled in soft blue blankets, making him look even cuter.

Doran's attention finally turned to his son as he leaned over to peer down at him. "He's cute, that's for sure. Looks like he's got my eyes! And my beak!"

Iva huffed. "Better than your father's beak."

Doran's eyes widened in horror at the thought of his son looking like his grandfather. "Blathering blatherskite! Would THAT have been a disaster!"

Iva shook her head. "Why do you insist of saying that phrase?"

Not needing to ask what she was referring to, Doran shrugged. "I don't know. They're just fun words..." he trailed off.

"Whatever" she mumbled. Iva then adjusted her position on the couch. "Now look. We're parents now. Which means we've got new responsibilities! There will be no more leaving for two days without so much as a note. We have to be here for Fenton! He needs us now and it'll take up most of our time."

Doran nodded distantly. "May I hold him?" he asked as though her words didn't fully register with him.

With an annoyed huff, Iva slowly and gently handed over their now sleeping son to Doran. Doran beamed down at his son. "Hey there, little feller!" he greeted. Fenton's tiny eyebrows scrunched together as he wriggled in his sleep to get more comfortable. It was as though he knew he was no longer in his mother's arms. Doran slowly rocked him back and forth. "I'm your papa! And even though I missed ya hatching from yer egg, I promise from this point on, I'll always be there for you! I'm gonna be a great dad for ya!"

The two new parents continued to sit there quietly watching their son sleep.

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Present Day

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Birds chirped outside the windows of McDuck Manor as bright rays of sunshine filtered through the windows facing the East. Everyone in the mansion were still sleeping, though thanks to sunshine now illuminating Scrooge McDuck's face, that was about to change.

Scrooge squinted as the offending light blinded him even with his eyelids closed. He turned away and tried to hide his face in his pillow; his little cotton sleeping hat falling off his head in the process. With a light grunt, he tried to cling to the last remaining remnants of sleep, but sadly the sun's rays had done their job and woken the generally early riser.

Cracking his straining eyes open, he looked out the window with disdain. The old mallard didn't need his glasses to know it was time to wake up. With a flop against his own pillow, Scrooge reached an arm out to shake the lump of fuchsia sheets next to him.

"Alright, lad, it's time t'wake up," Scrooge said in a deep sleepy voice. He fought back a yawn, his own eyelids already growing heavy. "Today's a work day, there's things to do."

The lump of sheets slowly stirred and a soft groaning sound was heard. "Five more minutes..." mumbled a half asleep Fenton Crackshell.

As tempting as that sounded to the older duck, he found himself shaking his head. "Cannea do that and you know it. Time is money...My money."

More groaning could be heard but Scrooge's words seemed to be working, for the sheets moved upward and then fell down to reveal Fenton suffering from severe bed head: his hair pushed all to one side.

"Alright, alright, I'm up. It feels criminal to be, but I'm moving!" The middle aged duck said this with a stretch, his back popping, until finally he was on his feet. He scratched his covered stomach, his onsie spaceship pajamas more fitting for a child than a thirty-two year old.

The accountant leaned against the bed, legs still touching the floor as Fenton's upper torso crawled its way to the short distance where his hubby laid.

Scrooge watched him with a lightly amused smile as Fenton leaned in.

"Mmm, good morning, Scroogey."

"Hmm...good morning to you too, Fenton" replied Scrooge as he stretched his own fatigued limbs. He pushed the remaining covers off and scooted closer to the younger duck, closing the remaining distance between them. He and Fenton shared a quick kiss before Scrooge reached over and grabbed his glasses and sat them on the end of his beak. He then stood and gave a soft yawn.

The kiss was enough to jolt Fenton awake, as he sprung to life. With a silly grin plastered on his face, he dashed towards the bathroom to quickly get through his morning routines.

Scrooge, while awake and having a quiet moment, took his time as he walked towards his wardrobe where his usual attire was waiting for him.

"What all DO we have going on today?" Fenton yelled from the bathroom, just as the older mallard finished laying everything he planned on wearing out on the bed. "I balanced the books yesterday, and I don't RECALL having any booked Gizmoduck special appearances happening today neither."

A sound of a flush and a quick hand wash and the younger duck returned, making his own way towards the wardrobe. He glanced at Scrooge who was still standing next to the bed and pulling at the wrinkles in his outfit.

Scrooge had yet to reply and it didn't seem like he was going to.

"Hmm..." pondered Fenton out loud, unfazed by the older duck's silence. "It's always so hard to choose what to wear..."

This finally gained a reaction out of Scrooge, who rolled his eyes.

"I hardly think it's much of a choice- All your suits look the same, ye dingus."

Fenton blushed and laughed nervously. "Yeah, but do I wear my 'lucky' suit or do I wear my 'let's have a good day today' suit? Big decisions, Scroogey!"

Scrooge narrowed his eyes. "You've named all your clothes?"

"Sure! Doesn't everyone?" asked Fenton as he pulled out one of his lavender jackets.

Scrooge didn't bother gracing him with an answer, instead he yawned and headed into the bathroom to do his own morning routine.

Fenton hummed to himself as he climbed out of his onesie and changed into his suit. He adjusted his tie the best he could, looking at it in the mirror to help him. After a moment he called out to Scrooge so the older mallard could hear him from inside the bathroom. "What do you want for breakfast this morning, Scroogey? Eggs and bacon or pancakes?"

The sound of flushing came again, along with the sound of someone washing their hands. Scrooge then stepped out, a towel in his hands for he was still drying them. "Pancakes. But how many times must I tell ya? Mrs. Beakley can make us breakfast. Ya don't have to. We've got other things to get ready for."

Fenton reached his arms out in emphasis. "But I LOVE cooking you breakfast! Besides! You want pancakes! Pancakes are EASY and take such little time!"

Scrooge just turned away and focused on changing. He knew arguing with the duck required more energy than he currently possessed. "Your buttons are uneven" he mumbled instead, referring to the dress shirt underneath Fenton's lavender jacket.

Fenton looked down and moved his tie for a better view. "Ack!" he cried out before quickly setting out to fix the problem. He unbuttoned his shirt and began to re-button it as Scrooge changed out of his night gown and into his own clothes.

Fenton was just finishing up the buttons on his shirt when Scrooge hopped onto the bed so that he could place his red spats on his webbed feet.

"Now" began Scrooge with an air of authority. "This week my cotton factory is being audited. Meaning all my employees there are gonna be panicking. I've already been in touch with the supervisor there and evidently their records are a mess. So I will be on the phone a good portion of the day. Not to mention, I will most likely have to go down there in person, meself."

Fenton nodded, having finished fixing his shirt. "This the same factory that gave you problems last fall?"

Scrooge nodded. "Aye. The place nearly went bankrupt due to poor organization." The old mallard scowled. "Not on MY watch!"

Fenton smiled, knowing how well Scrooge hated to loose so much as a penny for any reason.

Scrooge got up from the bed with a small bounce and stood before Fenton, his eyes instantly going to Fenton's disheveled tie. Nimble hands got straight to work in fixing it. Scrooge untwisted the tie, moving around the back of Fenton's collar and neck to do it as he continued, "So, I want you to cover the financial end of things. I will be sending you the company's fund reports and I want you to look over those files like yer life depends on it! I want to know why that company is givin' me so much trouble! They're far from bankrupt now, to be sure, but those numbers are still off! I'm counting on YOU to figure out why!"

Fenton grinned widely, going as far as saluting and making Scrooge stumble into him slightly due to the sudden jerking motion since the older duck was still holding onto his tie.

Scrooge scowled lightly, yet said nothing as he placed on hand on Fenton's chest for support. He made quick work of Fenton's tie and after a moment of inspection, was satisfied. He then looked over the rest of his younger husband, taking in every detail of his appearance. His eyes started up, went down, then up again. "There ya are, lad. Ya look good!"

Fenton blushed. "Ya say such nice things when ya want to, Scroogey!"

Scrooge then took both his hands and fluffed the feathers on Fenton's cheeks, smiling as he did so. "Can't have ya goin' around makin' me look bad, now."

Fenton chuckled. "I could never make you look bad, Scroogey, my love!" With a turn of his heel, Fenton started to head for the door to their bedroom, yet his foot caught the underside of the carpet at his feet, sending him landing on the floor with a thud.

Scrooge just stared down at the fallen duck. "Ugh...bless me bagpipes, lad. You're hopeless"he deadpanned. Knowing his husband; who was already in the process of getting up, was fine, he walked past him and headed out the door. Scrooge made sure to grab his top hat before though.

Fenton laughed it off, brushing himself off as he followed after Scrooge. "I meant to do that! You know, as an example of-If I DID make you look bad-That'd be one of the ways-Cause you know-I may have done that one or two times already in public-" He said as they went into the hallway, his voice echoing slightly. "But let me ya-That was all just off chance occurrences! Why-"

"Fenton?"

"Yeah, Scroogey?"

"Shut up."

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"Six pancakes for the apple of my eye, the love of my life!" cheered Fenton twenty minutes later as the two of them prepared to eat breakfast in the kitchen.

Scrooge had settled himself in the bright sunny rounded love seat that was nestled to the side of the kitchen. He was too busy reading the business section of the newspaper to really hear what Fenton was babbling on about.

Fenton placed the stack of pancakes in front of Scrooge, who glanced at the intrusion of his reading, instantly smiling at the sight of food.

The triplets, Huey, Dewey, and Louie; along with little Webby, had already been heralded off to school by Duckworth, who had just arrived back from his trip.

"Any more orange juice, sir?" asked the butler, a pitcher of juice in his hand.

"No, thank you, Duckworth" replied Scrooge distractedly as he bit into his pancakes. His eyes turned up to Fenton, who was still prancing around the kitchen. "Fenton! Sit down and eat yer breakfast! How many times must I tell you-This is why I have Mrs. Beakley and Duckworth around! They'll help out with everything in the kitchen. You just sit your tail feathers down and eat so we can proceed with today!"

"Oh, he's no bother at all, Mr. McDuck!" said Mrs. Beakley sweetly. "If anything, I've learned quite a few cooking techniques from him!"

Fenton beamed at her praise. "Aww, shucks, Mrs. Beakley!"

Scrooge huffed, clearly unimpressed. "Just eat!"

After several moments of silence and after finally wrangling Fenton to sit next to him and eat, the door bell rang.

Ever since being an official member of the household, Fenton had developed a strange compulsion to always answer the door. This was no exception. Despite the fact that Duckworth had already long since left the kitchen to attend to his other chores and was therefore closer to answer the door, Fenton dropped his fork and ran to the front door to answer it; leaving an annoyed Scrooge in his wake.

"Youngin's" growled the rich duck as he turned back to reading his newspaper.

Duckworth was already at the door when Fenton arrived, slightly out of breath. The younger duck came to a stop just before the door. "Mr. Crackshell-As I tell you every time-It's not necessary you come to answer the door. That's my job."

Fenton guffawed at the butler. "I know, I know! I just enjoy answering the door!"

Without further ado, Fenton grabbed the door knob and did just that. He swung the large oak door open and peered outside with excitement. His eyes landed on a very scruffy looking duck who was the same height and build as himself. The duck looked oddly familiar and this alone caused a shiver to go up his spine.

The duck on the other side of the door was wearing a torn long sleeved red shirt and a thin, heavily worn sleeveless vest with an assortment of pockets that looked overstuffed. A matching green fishing hat sat on top of his head and a toothpick was sticking out of his beak. Around his jaw was a scraggly, uneven beard.

Fenton just stared at the visitor.

When it was clear Fenton wasn't going to give him any kind of greeting, the other duck said, "Why, hello there! Blatherin' Blatherskite! I'll be darned! You must be him!"

Fenton just blinked at the duck, his hand still gripping the oak door. At the infamous words he used at a constant basis, there was no doubt in the accountant's mind just who he was staring at.

"Fenton! Fenton Crackshell! It's me! You're ol' man! Doran Crackshell!" introduced Doran happily. "It's been a LONG time, son!" He raised his arms out as though expecting Fenton to give him a hug.

Fenton's whole being tensed up, his shoulders rising in alarm.

Duckworth took a step back after Fenton slammed the door on the duck who had just claimed to be the young duck's father.

There was a heavy silence before Doran could be heard on the other side of the door. "Uh...Hello?"

Fenton squeaked in alarm at the sound of his father's voice, his eyes wide in shock and fear. Without another sound, the accountant ran out of the foyer.

Before Duckworth could react any further, he heard Fenton call back in a high pitched and strangled voice, "DON'T LET THAT GUY IN!"

This left poor Duckworth staring after Fenton, having no idea what had just occurred.

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Author's Note: So, there is the first chapter to the story! Fenton's long lost father comes back into town and poor Fenton doesn't know how to handle it. Hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you for reading and please review! -EricaX


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Another flashback as we start out this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

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28 Years Ago

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"Mama?" came the small voice of little Fenton Crackshell. The duckling had just turned four years old and he slowly walked over to his mother on uncertain feet. In his hands was a little blue blanket with teddy bears on it.

Fenton had tears in his eyes as he walked towards the kitchen where his mother was trying to catch up on the dirty dishes.

He hid his face and little beak into the softness of his treasured blanket that seemed to soothe the troubled youth.

Iva sighed loudly as she poured dish washing soap into the sink. "What is it, Fenton? Mommy is busy."

Fenton peaked out to look up at her before hiding his face again. "Did papa leave cause he didn't like me?"

Iva dropped the pan she was holding, causing it to clatter loudly in the sink as it hit the other dishes. She was pretty sure she had just chipped one of her coffee cups in the process. The innocent question had caught her off guard.

Doran had left disappeared again, like he was known to do, but this time he'd been gone for over a month. It was the longest period of time he'd been gone and Iva suspected they wouldn't be seeing him ever again. Deep in her bones she always knew Doran would leave and never return, especially ever since Fenton had come into the picture.

Anger quickly filled Iva as she wiped her soapy hands on a nearby towel and turned to her son. "That is the silliest thing you've ever said, Fenton!" She leaned down and motioned for her little son to come to her. Fenton walked over to her and made a little happy noise in the back of his throat as she picked him up. Iva continued now that he was in her arms. "And trust me, you say a LOT of silly things!"

Fenton giggled as Iva chuckled and tapped him on the end of his beak.

"Now, I want you to completely forget about that silly idea of yours. Your father didn't leave because he didn't like you. He left because he's a useless, lazy failure!"

Little Fenton gasped. "Failure?"

Iva nodded. "Yes! And no one ever wants to be a failure! He failed us Fenton!" She turned so that he could see the expanse of their home. The apartment they had lived in when Fenton had hatched had evicted them and both Iva and Doran had fought to get the little trailer they now considered home. She had Fenton looked about their home, which was clean, but very cluttered. There was hardly any room for their belongings. Most everything was kept in boxes.

"How did he fail us?" asked Fenton.

"He failed us by leaving us. He ran away from his responsibilities as a part of this family! He didn't leave because he didn't love you. He left because he's a failure! Lazy, unmotivated, taking everything for granted! He never got anywhere with his life and its his own fault!" she explained. She knew Fenton wouldn't fully understand her words and she felt a part of her was less explaining to her son and more venting her own anger.

"But if you love someone...you don't leave them, right?" Fenton pointed out. "So...he didn't love us..." He sniffled at the thought.

Iva shook her head. "He loved us, but he was too big of a coward. He's selfish, Fenton. He can only think of himself. And that's why he's a failure." She kissed Fenton on the head as the little duckling blinked owlishly as he tried to understand it all.

"You love me, right, Mama?"

Iva nodded. "Of course, I do! You think I'd put up with ya if I didn't?" she teased, wiggling her fingers to tickle him.

Fenton giggled as he tried to get away from the offending hand.

Iva stopped in her tickling attack after a minute or so and waited for her son to calm down. He held tighter to his blanket as his giggles faded.

"I don't want to be like papa then!" Fenton suddenly announced loudly.

Iva winced. She still needed to teach Fenton not to yell when he spoke. "Good! You'd better not end up like him! I'll whip your little tail feathers if ya do!"

Fenton didn't seem fazed by her warning. He shook his head. "No!" he called out defiantly. He shook his head little head dramatically. "I won't be like papa! I'll work hard and be a good person!"

Iva smirked. "That's a good boy." She set him down on the tiled kitchen floor. "Now, be a good boy and go back to watching your cartoons. Mommy has to clean up this kitchen."

Fenton nodded, his earlier worries now seemingly gone.

Iva watched him go and cuddle back up on the couch. She frowned, thinking how nice it would be to sit around and watch television all day. She shook her head and focused on the task at hand.

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Present Day

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The sound of running feet could be heard down the hallways of McDuck Manor as Fenton ran through the halls, seeking out the one person who could understand his current turmoil. He whimpered as he ran, his arms stretched out in front of him; running as though the devil was on his tail.

His heart pounded heavily against his chest as his mind ran in circles trying to wrap around what had just happened.

His father-HIS FATHER-of all people; showing up at the front door!

'What is this world coming to!?' Fenton found himself asking in his mind. 'What, am I suddenly living inside one of M'ma's soap operas!?'

Though his mind was busy running a mile a minute, his feet knew where they were going and before long he was skidding to a halt in front of one of the many bedrooms in the mansion.

He paused, seeing that the door was still shut. This most likely meant his mother was still in bed. He stood there, biting his nails anxiously as he debated on what to do. He knew how angry Iva would be if he just barged in like he wanted to.

He groaned loudly, running his hands though his hair and face feathers.

He started pacing in front of the door. "Why would he just suddenly show up!?" he asked out loud. "Ugh! M'ma! Why aren't you up yet!?"

Just as he asked this, the door opened and Iva stepped out in her usual pink bath robe and hair curlers. She shouted in alarm when she was suddenly plowed into by Fenton. She nearly fell over from the brunt of the sudden bear hug her son was giving her.

"FENTON!" she screamed angrily. She felt her son dig his beak into her neck and she then took note of his sniffles and anxious breathing. She blinked and sighed, her body going slack as she patted him on the back. "Ugh...Fenton, it's too early in the morning for this. And even if it wasn't, I'd still tell you you're too old to be acting this way."

Fenton shook his head, his hold never loosening. "Hmm...You don't understand, M'ma! Something awful has happened!"

"McDuck didn't threaten you with his cane again, did he? That's hardly anything new. You're always giving him a reason to threaten you" replied Iva.

Fenton shook his head, finally pulling back and releasing his mother. "No! Not thaaat! And in my defense, he hasn't threatened me in his cane since before the wedding cake fiasco!" He paused, remembering the incident, before shaking his head again to bring himself back to the present. "No! It's P'pa!"

Iva froze. "What?" Her voice didn't keep the irritation and shock out of her voice. It was rare for Fenton to bring up Doran. If Doran was brought up in conversation, it was usually Iva the one doing it. Fenton never talked about his worthless father.

"He just suddenly showed up!" exclaimed Fenton. He pointed to where he guessed the front door was. "He's out there, M'ma! I SAW HIM! It had to have been him! He even said 'Blathering Blatherskite'! No one but us say those words!"

Iva's eyes widened with every word her son spoke. She wrapped her pink robe tighter around her. "Well what the hell is he doing here!?" she demanded angrily.

Fenton gulped and nervously fiddled with his tie, ruining the work Scrooge had done to make it look flawless around his neck. "Don't ask me! I hardly remember the guy! Remember, I'm the poor innocent, adorably cute three year old he ran out on!"

Iva raised an eyebrow at his use of words to describe himself as a child; inwardly scoffing at Fenton's detailed use of wording. "Did you tell him to scram?"

"I didn't say anything to him! How could I!? I just slammed the door in his face and ran to come and find you!" screeched Fenton worriedly.

Iva burst out laughing and it took her a moment to catch her breath. She placed a hand on Fenton's shoulder to help keep her balance. "You slammed the door in his face!?"

"Uhh...Yeah..." answered Fenton. He was uncertain why she was laughing so hard. Couldn't she see how worked up he was about all this!? This was NO laughing matter!

Iva only laughed harder. Between laughs she said, "Oh...Fenton! I I knew all these years of you constantly chattering in my ear would pay off one day!"

Fenton smiled before her words sunk in. "H-Hey!"

Iva calmed down, adjusting one of the curlers in her hair. "So, you think he's still out there?"

Fenton shivered at the thought. "I don't know! I sure hope not! I just know I don't want to see him!"

All the humor was now gone from Iva's face as she realized just how affected Fenton was by everything. "Then don't! That no good abandon-er has no business being here and if he thinks he can just waltz back into our lives like he owns the place, he's in for a big surprise!"

Iva looked like she was about to head back into her room, so Fenton grabbed her by the arm. "But, M'ma! What do I do!?"

"What do you mean, 'what do you do'?" she exclaimed incredulously. "You go about your day like he was never here! Go to work! I'm surprised McDuck hasn't tracked you down yet and pulled you to his Money Bin by your collar yet! It's getting late in the morning!"

Fenton nodded wordlessly as though trying to reassure himself. "R-Right! I should...I should just...Go about me day like it never happened..."

Iva nodded. "Exactly!"

"Go find my Scroogey and get to work!"

Iva nodded, though it was obvious her attention span was waning as she glanced back into her room. "Yes, yes. Now get going. I have to do my hair!"

Fenton paused in his steps to leave to gawk at her. "You're gonna do your hair!? You NEVER do your hair!"

Iva gave him a half lidded glare. "You think I'm gonna walk around looking like this with your father lurking about?"

Fenton's eyes widened. "You're not gonna talk to him, are you!?"

Iva shrugged. "Of course I am! Gonna give that no good failure a peice of my mind! No one comes and gets my son all worked up and gets away with it."

Fenton found himself blushing. "Aww, shucks, M'ma..."

Iva rolled her eyes. "I don't think you realize how annoying you are when you're blubbering about like you just were. I'm gonna make him pay for making me have to listen to you fuss so much..."

Fenton's shoulder sagged. "Gee, so sorry I interrupted your morning with my anxieties and fears..."

Iva rolled her eyes. "Please, Fenton. You're a grown man. Have a little more confidence. Things have been far more worse than this before. Do you think McDuck freaks out and starts blubberin' the way you do when something upsets him?"

Fenton's eyebrows raised, imagining a panicking Scrooge. "You'd be surprised...Take that dime away from him and he's a hot mess...For about 43.2 seconds...Then he's a raging demon till he gets it back..." Fenton trailed off. "Okay, so...No...He doesn't freak out like I do."

Iva nodded. "Exactly. He keeps his head on his shoulders and plows through the day. Now go be a bit more like your husband and go to work already!"

Fenton pouted as he watched his mother walk back into her room and shut the door behind her. Despite her words of encouragement to simply tackle the day as he would any other, the accountant found his anxiety rising in the pit of his stomach.

He started mumbling to himself as he slowly walked down the hallway to the main foyer. "Going to work means I have to walk through the front door...and walking through the front door means I have to walk by where-" Fenton gulped. "W-Where P'pa could still be lurking...And if he's there l-lurking...He might SEE me-And I might see HIM!"

He had just reached the end of the hallway and was walking down the red carpet stairs, not even realizing how close to was to the front door. At the bottom of the steps he had started running his hands through his hair, mussing it all up. He closed his eyes tightly as he felt his nerves go haywire. "BLATHERING BLATHERSKITE!" he yelled out. "I can't handle this!"

The clearing of someone's throat snapped Fenton out of his thoughts as he flinched and looked over at his left. There beside him stood Duckworth who was regarding him calmly. "Mr. Crackshell, if you are quite done trying to break the windows with your shouting, I would like to inform you that the visitor you so rudely slammed the door on was not let inside the house, just as you asked."

Fenton sniffled as he pulled his hands out of his hand and stared blankly at the butler. His words then sank in. "So, he's not inside?"

"That would be a negative, sir" replied Duckworth.

Fenton took in a deep breath and let it out loudly.

Duckworth raised an eyebrow at the accountant's antics and couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Crackshell, if you wouldn't mind my asking, just why is it such a great bother to you that your father showed up?"

Fenton looked away, unable to meet the gaze of the butler. After a long pause Fenton replied with an air of indifference and uncharacteristic rudeness, "As a matter of fact, Duckworth, I DO mind you asking me that! Just-Go about doing whatever...butlers do!" With that, Fenton stomped off, leaving Duckworth once again shocked and confused as to what just happened.

He didn't get very far before his eyes landed on Scrooge, who was irritably walking out from living room with his signature scowl on his face and his cane in one hand.

"Fenton!" hollered Scrooge once he spotted the accountant. "Where have you been!? We're LATE because of you! I sat in the kitchen waiting for you to come back from-"

Scrooge didn't get to finish as he found himself being hugged tightly by Fenton mid rant. It knocked the wind out of the older duck slightly and he grunted at the sudden closeness.

Scrooge opened his beak to reprimand Fenton when he heard Fenton mumble into his neck. "Scroogey..."

Taken aback by the amount of emotion in Fenton's voice, Scrooge was unsure of how to respond. Clearly within the short time span something had upset his younger husband for him to react this way. Since they had started dating, Scrooge had learned how to read Fenton pretty well and learned how to tell the difference from when Fenton was truly upset to when Fenton was just being his usual over dramatic self. Now was a time he was clearly and truly upset over something.

Uncertainly, Scrooge gently returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Fenton's taller form. "There, there, laddie. Whatever is ailin' ya, it's not worth it. Believe me." He removed his arms from around Fenton and wriggled them between them so that he could lightly push Fenton back to look at him. The rich duck had guessed correctly; something was truly worrying Fenton for the accountant's eyes were practically bloodshot.

Scrooge sighed as Fenton sniffed and the older duck reached into his pocket and handed his husband a hankie. Fenton blew loudly into it as Scrooge watched him patiently. Fenton didn't bother returning the hankie, knowing Scrooge wouldn't take it back anyways. "Sorry, Scroogey...Something...Just caught me off guard and I...I got myself all worked up."

Scrooge nodded as he leaned on his cane. "Clearly" he huffed softly. He reached out and grabbed Fenton by the hand, leading the recovering duck to the front door.

It was obvious to Scrooge though that with each step closer to the door they got, Fenton trembled even more. He could feel it in Fenton's hand which he was still holding firmly in his own. Just before they reached the door, Scrooge smiled politely to Duckworth, who was standing at his usual place by the door.

Fenton whimpered as Duckworth moved to open the door.

Scrooge sighed. "Hold on a moment, Duckworth" he instructed the butler before turning to Fenton. "Alright, lad, what is it? What happened? Let's get this out of yer system before work."

Fenton pulled nervously at his tie. "I don't wanna talk about it."

This earned him a surprised look from Scrooge. "Really? Usually when I hear that from you, its because you've done something wrong or made a mistake and you don't want me knowing about it. So, I suggest you tell me before I get more angry about it later."

Fenton shook his head. "No, no!" he answered, finally breaking out of his unusual silence. "It's nothing like that, Scrooge! Really! I just-" he scrambled hopelessly for words, but soon sighed and decided the best way was the truth. "Fiiine...When I answered the door earlier...It was my...My P'pa at the door..."

Scrooge blinked. "Your P'pa? You mean yer father? Here?"

Fenton nodded.

Scrooge seemed for a lack of words. Fenton had never mentioned his father before and the one time Scrooge had been in a decidingly talkative mood, he had asked after the absence of Fenton's father in which Fenton replied, "I don't know him." Then the accountant had been strangely tight lipped over the subject; immediately changing it. It was the one subject Fenton never brought up nor spoke about in great detail.

Scrooge cleared his throat. "Well, umm...What did he have to say?"

Fenton scratched nervously at his neck and looked away.

"I believe what Mr. Crackshell is unable to say himself is that he didn't get a chance to speak with his father, since he immediately slammed the door in his father's face and ran off, demanding that I not let him in" explained Duckworth from his spot at the door.

Scrooge turned to stare up at his loyal butler before turning back to his husband. "You slammed the door in his face? Why?"

The emotions festering inside Fenton seem to burst at that moment. "Why do you THINK I slammed the door in his face!?" Fenton shouted angrily, surprising Scrooge. "That man walked out on M'ma and me when I was only three years old and left us to fend for ourselves! He's a useless failure and he's everything I can't stand! I've spent my whole life trying everything NOT to be like him!"

There was a heavy silence that filled the foyer once Fenton was finished and the accountant seemed to shrivel back down to his worried, panicked self after his outburst.

Scrooge sighed, glancing at the old clock on the other side of the room. "Well, enough of that. He's gone and you and I have things to do. We can talk about this more tonight after you've calmed down and had some time away at work."

Duckworth opened the door for them as Scrooge wrapped an arm around Fenton's shoulders, guiding him to where the car was parked. Fenton was just starting to feel better when he glanced over by the bushes to see Doran meandering around them.

Fenton's eyes went wide as he ducked, hiding behind Scrooge's top hat, hoping his father hadn't seen him, but he had a feeling the brief eye contact he'd shared with Doran was a good indication he'd been seen. "EEP! There he is! He's still here! What a creep!" hissed Fenton into Scrooge's ear.

Scrooge had stumbled slightly when Fenton had ducked but was quick to glance over to the direction Fenton was referring to and his sharp eyes landed on the rough looking duck waiting by the bushes around the mansion.

Upon seeing Fenton, Doran instantly pulled the toothpick out of his teeth and started walking towards them. "Fenton!" He called over.

Fenton's body convulsed in shivers at the call of his name as Duckworth opened the door to the car. The accountant all but flew into the back seat, positioning himself in the seat farthest from Doran.

Scrooge had more dignity than that; calmly getting into his car after shooting Doran a scornful glare his way. He may not know the full story between father and son, but anyone that upset Fenton, angered Scrooge McDuck.

"Fenton! Son, its me!" called out Doran as he darted over to the car.

Fenton pushed himself further into the cushions of the car seat, his legs squirming. "Hurry, Duckworth! Get us out of here!"

Duckworth shut their door just as Doran made it over. Fenton looked away while Scrooge sat there scowling at the duck he now knew to be Fenton's father.

"I have never appreciated these tinted windows more than I do now!" gulped Fenton. "Even when the paparazzi nearly caught us making out in here!"

Scrooge gave a side glance at his husband, remembering the incident clearly. Just two days before Scrooge had decided to get tinted windows on the car for privacy's sake from the paparazzi who loved to stalk them ever since they learned McDuck was dating. They had just left the Money Bin after a long hard day's work and a simple kiss had turned into much more very quickly. It was then the flashes of cameras had disrupted them and before they could panic too much for being caught kissing, Duckworth had reminded them as he got into the car, that the windows were tinted. The butler always was sure to tell them to wait till they were at home.

Snapping back to reality, Scrooge turned his eyes to Doran, who looked as though he was about to knock on the windows. Much to Fenton's horror, Scrooge hit the button and rolled the window down.

"Hello!" greeted Doran charmingly enough. He took off his fishing hat out of last minute politeness. "You must be Mr. McDuck!"

Scrooge just glared at him.

Doran leaned down a bit so he could see Fenton, but Scrooge sat straighter in his seat so his husband couldn't be seen. Noting this, Doran gave him a half smirk. "...You've clearly got a GREAT sense of humor!I can tell just by lookin' at ya!"

Scrooge just continued to glare, his anger only intensifying as he heard Fenton groan in anxious nerves beside him. "Get off my property or I will see to it you are thrown in jail for trespassing!"

Doran jumped back at the threat, his eyes wide. "Yeah...You've definitely got a sense of humor hidden in there somewhere. I can sense these things! So, can I see my son now?"

"NO!" snarled Scrooge. "And you'd better heed my warning or you'll regret it!" Without giving Doran a change to reply, Scrooge rolled the window back up. "Drive, Duckworth!"

Duckworth didn't have to be told twice. Though as the car started moving, they could hear Doran yelling at the top of his lungs.

"HEY! WE'LL DO LUNCH THEN, RIGHT!?"

Scrooge scoffed, plopping himself back into the seat cushions. He made a disgusted sound. "Egh! Complete freeloader! I cannea tell jus' by lookin' at him!" He glanced over at Fenton, who had yet to say anything. His expression softened. "Don't let him bother ya lad. He'll be out of out hair before you know it. There's nothin' he can do. If ya don't want to talk to him, you don't have to."

Fenton nodded, his hand down as he fiddled with his fingers in his lap. "Y-You don't think I'm a coward for hiding from him, do you?"

Scrooge thought about this for a moment, knowing his answer would impact Fenton's future actions. "Hmm...I wouldn'ta go as far as calling yourself a coward...It's more...self preservation?" Scrooge made a face at his own words. "Eh... Clearly yer father has hurt you and your mother...It's understandable that you'd be...not really...afraid...but...weary...to meet him and be around him..."

Fenton nodded. "I don't want to talk about it."

Scrooge titled his head to the side at this comment. "Are yeh sure?"

Fenton seemed to have calmed down as a stubborn frown formed on his face as he wiped the last of his nervous tears from his eyes. "Yes. I just don't want to talk about it."

Sentiment had never been one of Scrooge's strong points. He was not used to it. He grew up in a hard harsh world where if you couldn't fend for yourself and earn your way through life via hard work, you failed. He left his parents back in Scotland early enough in life and became distant from his sisters and soon learned that the world of business was cruel and unyielding.

So it was no surprise that Scrooge became more or less the same. His heart hidden away and his priorities set on making money and being smarter than the smarties and tougher than the toughies. Money had been his obsession and comfort for years and it wasn't until his nephews came into his life did he remember there was more to life than riches.

Yet even now, after a few years of living with a softened heart, Scrooge still struggled to mentally or emotionally support anyone but himself. It was something he admired in Fenton, who was the exact opposite. The middle aged accountant wore his heart on his sleeve and welcomed the world with open arms and an open mouth. Always saying exactly what was on his mind, not caring if anyone wanted to hear it or not.

So it was strange to see Fenton clam up the way he was now. Usually Scrooge was tempted to put earplugs in his ears whenever something was bothering Fenton. Seeing him sink into himself like he was witnessing now gave Scrooge an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Fenton took in a deep breath and let it out before saying, "So, you'll have to give me the passwords to the Cotton Factory's files when we get upstairs, Scroogey."

Scrooge gaze him a confused look before he caught on, "Eh...? Oh, oh! Right! Yes, of course!" The older mallard had not expected the complete change in Fenton. One minute he was crying his eyes out and seeking comfort and now the accountant was staring out the window as though nothing was amiss; his face his normal neutral face.

Despite being lost as to what was happening, Scrooge was certainly happy Fenton's mind was focused on business. That was a subject Scrooge McDuck could handle!

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Doran watched the car drive down the long windy driveway and through the gates until it was no longer in sight. He scratched thoughtfully at his beard, his gaze never leaving the spot where he knew his son was. His eyes then moved over to where he knew they were headed: Scrooge's Money Bin.

"Well, can't say I expected a welcome party, but blathering blatherskite, Fenton! Way to give yer ol' man the cold shoulder!" he said aloud to himself.

"Can ya blame him?" came Iva's irritated voice.

Doran jumped and spun around to see Iva glaring at him, her arms crossed in front of her. She was out of her pink bathrobe and wearing a simple pink shirt underneath a thin blue blazer. The biggest change was her hair, which was finally out of the curlers and finally loose and free. Her hair was short but curly. The loose curly waves wrapping around her head and grazing her shoulders in a delicate way.

"Well, I'll be! It it ain't the lovely Iva herself!" chortled Doran.

Iva's eyes narrowed further. "And if it isn't the sleeze bag Doran himself!" she mocked.

Doran shrugged, opening on the many pockets in his faded vest and pulling out another toothpick. He placed it in his teeth. "Yeah, I had that comin'. How's life been treatin' ya, Iva? You seem like yer doin' pretty good!" He motioned to the mansion behind her.

"Oh, just peachy. I woke up this morning and one of the first things I learn is your sorry ass is out here lurking about" she griped.

Doran snorted. "I ain't lurkin'! Heck, I even so much as knocked on the door!"

"I know. Fenton came and told me you were out here" she told him.

Doran smiled at the mention of Fenton. "Poor kid. Musta been so excited to see me, he slammed the door in my face."

Iva rolled her eyes. "Excitement isn't the word I would use. Now get out of here! I don't want you anywhere near MY SON!"

Doran nearly choked on his toothpick, clearly looking offended. "Hey, I did half the work CREATING him, I'll have you know! You'd think I can at LEAST claim parental rights here!"

Iva leaned forward, her hands moving to her hips. "HA! Right! NOW suddenly you care to be called his other parent! What you did is hardly considered 'work' either." She straightened up, trying to look at intimidating as possible. "You may have had a hand in creating him, but I'M the one who raised him! I'm the one who changed his diapers! I was the one who was there for every crying fit, every tantrum, every runny nose, every sickness, every bruise-Where were you his whole life?! Off gallivanting across the world without a glance back!"

Doran shrugged, looking away. "Now I wouldn't go and say all that! Sure, I thought 'bout you guys. I just knew you had things under control, being who you are and all. Now look at 'im! Grown up, happily married- and now the kid's taking care of YOU. You've done well, Iva dear. You've done well."

Iva seethed at his words, glaring daggers into him. "HOW DARE YOU!" she spat angrily. "How dare you come back into our lives, criticize my parenting- after over twenty-eight years! Not only that, but criticize the way things turned out!" She paused, taking a moment to control her fury. She looked away before turning back to him, pointing a finger in his direction. "But guess what, Doran dearest, it doesn't matter what you think-at least I was THERE for him! Unlike you!"

Doran glanced up at the sky, noting that it looked like was going to rain. He licked his finger and raised it in the air. "Storm is comin'" he commented. It was as though he wasn't in the middle of an argument with his wife he hadn't seen in years.

Iva gave him an incredulous look. "You haven't changed one bit, Doran."

"Implying I needed to change?" he asked impishly.

"You know it" snapped Iva.

Doran cleared his throat before spitting in the bushes and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Look, I can't say I blame either one of you for being upset with me. But it was stressful living in the city. I felt stressed out the wazoo! I felt like I was being strangled, ya know that feelin'?" He plucked a leaf off one of the bushes. "No, I don't think you do. But...It got hard, so... I got out. Simple as that. Was that cowardly of me? Sure, probably... But hey!" He raised his hands out of his pockets to raise them in the air. "I did what I needed to survive. I'm sure YOU'VE done something over the years you're not exactly proud of either. POINT is... I'm here now, aren't I? Askin' for forgiveness, and all that. I don't exactly EXPECT it... But SHEESH, can'tcha just at LEAST give a guy a chance?"

"HA! Of COURSE you're here now!" she exclaimed as though it was most obvious thing in the world. "My son just married the richest duck in the world last month! Of COURSE you choose now of all times to appear back into our lives! How convenient for you, Doran!"

Doran frowned. "Way to give me the benefit of the doubt! I'm an old man, Iva. Can't you just believe that maybe I've finally woken up and realized I just don't got the energy to run anymore? That I gave something up that I can never get back?"

Iva looked away, suddenly looking very uncomfortable as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "...You could have kept in touch at the very least..."

Doran gave her a half lidded look. "Let's be honest here...After I left, did you really WANT to hear anything from me ever again?" When he received no immediate answer, he continued. "Like I said, I just thought any contact from me at all from that point on would be doing more harm than good. Actually... I'm more surprised you didn't just tell him I was just plain dead, instead of a dead beat. Woulda made things easier in the long run, I'd imagine."

Quietly and slightly reluctantly, Iva replied, "I guess I was holding on to the hope that someday you'd come back. Not for me. But for him."

Doran opened his arms wide as though he was gonna hug someone. "Well, I'm here now! Like I said! How's about a second chance to be the Pa I never was!"

Iva's vulnerable look was gone as she glared at him, "No. You lost out on any hope of a second chance when you walked out on us, Doran. Oh! And you want to know the best part? Fenton's greatest fear is ending up like you! He's terrified at the very thought of turning out anything like you. He always has feared it."

Doran flinched at her words but he hid it well by cracking his neck. "Eh...I guess I can't blame him fer that..." He then shrugged. " But...Doesn't really matter. I won't believe any of it till I hear it all from my son. Cause I only care about what he thinks...Not what you think..."

Iva's scowl deepened at the words 'my son'. Though it was soon replaced with a victorious smirk. "Oh, and just how it that going for you anyway? I suspect you didn't get the happy reunion you were hoping for, did you? I hear he slammed the door in your face. I raised him well!" She laughed at the last bit.

Doran snorted. "I caught him off guard is all, I'm sure."

Iva laughed louder. "Ha! Keep telling yourself that, Doran! You'll be lucky if you catch another glimpse of Fenton! He doesn't want to see you! And the only reason I came out to see you was to laugh in your face because I know Fenton snubbed you and snubbed you good. He hid from you, didn't he? As he got in the car?"

Doran scratched the back of his neck with disinterest. "That old guy's top hat was in the way is all."

"Hmph! Well, that 'old guy' is Fenton's husband. And believe me, Doran, you do NOT want to get on McDuck's bad side. And I can assure you, you already are!" she warned her absentee husband.

Doran sighed. "What exactly did I do!? I'm just a guy comin' to see his son! How is that so awful!"

"It's your TIMING, Doran! Twenty-eight years later you finally decide to pop in for a visit? It's suspicious, is what it is, Doran!" she argued back.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I just wanted to see my son, goddamnit!" snapped Doran, finally showing more than a little emotional interest in the conversation.

Iva sneered at him. "Then prepare yourself for scrutiny, Doran, cause that's ALL you're gonna get!" With that, she turned on her heel and walked back into the mansion. She slammed the door behind her and the sound of the door locking could be heard.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Inside McDuck's Money Bin, all the employees were settled at their desks, their morning coffees starting to cool off on their desk as they typed away at their computers and filed the documents they had been told to file. Everything was running smooth enough for a typical work day.

Scrooge and Fenton walked into the offices, making their way to the other side of the office where their own desks were located. Scrooge's desk was in the other room of course, but Fenton's desk was right outside the door across from Mrs. Quackfaster.

Mrs. Quackfaster greeted them cheerily. "Hello Mr. and Mr. McDuck! How are you gentlemen today?"

Scrooge nodded to her; a kinder greeting than she used to get from him. Fenton flashed her a wan smile before turning to his desk.

Just as Scrooge was about to enter his office, he paused and turned to Fenton. "Oh, yes. The passwords for the files" he muttered. He grabbed a notepad and pen from Fenton's desk as the accountant sat down. The older duck quickly jotted the passwords down quickly and slid the paper closer to Fenton. "There ya go. Shouldn't have any trouble getting into their files and overseeing their finances..." He paused and gave Fenton a look over. "Remember, Fenton, this IS an important matter...But don't go mucking it up because yer head's in a tizzy from t'is mornin'! Just relax and focus on the numbers! Yer good at numbers, laddie!"

Fenton smiled warmly at his husband. "Thank you, Scrooge. That made me feel a bit better..."

Scrooge nodded, satisfied. In an normal situation, he would just turn and head into his office, but he knew today was far from ordinary for Fenton. So, glancing up at his employees and seeing that none of them were looking, he learned over the desk and gave Fenton a light and quick kiss on the top of his beak.

Fenton blushed furiously. "Shucks, ya can be such a softie, Scroogey!"

"Only to those I like" smirked Scrooge with a half lidded gaze.

Fenton felt his heart melt as he watched his paramour turn and leave, shutting his office door behind him. After staring at the door that was preventing him from seeing his love, Fenton turned to the papers on his desk and his computer. It was time to focus on work!

Work! Work! Work! Time to think of numbers! And statistics! And why did his P'pa decide to show up? Did this mean his father wants to make up?

Fenton shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thoughts of his father.

'No!' Fenton thought inwardly. 'Do NOT think of P'pa! This is WORK! It's time to help Scroogey figure out why that Cotton Factory's numbers are off-I wonder if P'pa is good at numbers-"

Fenton cried out and slammed his fists on his desk as he once again thought of his father.

Mrs. Quackfaster squeaked in alarm. "Fenton, dear, are you alright?"

Fenton opened his eyes and peered at her from his desk. He nodded. "Uh huh! Yep! Just fine! Just dandy! I've never been so great in my life!" His words were getting louder and louder.

Mrs. Quackfaster gave him a dubious look. "Oh, well...If you say so..."

While working with Fenton, everyone learned one thing quite quickly. Fenton could be erratic and unpredictable when he was nervous or having an off day. Everyone in the office quickly learned it was one of those days.

Fenton took in a deep breath. "I am NOT going to think of P'pa!"

He grabbed the slip of paper Scrooge wrote the passwords on and made quick work of getting the factor's files up. He looked at the information before him but his eyes weren't really seeing the numbers on the screen. He blinked and then rubbed at his eyes, hoping it would help.

'Is he going to still be there whenever we get home after work?' a thought came to Fenton's mind unbidden.

Frustrated with himself, Fenton kicked his leg out under the desk, only to hit the front side of the desk. "OUCH!" he exclaimed, rolling back from the desk in his chair and rubbing at the place on his foot he hit. He glanced around and could see everyone in the office looking up at him with concern. He flashed them a nervous smile before quickly turning back to his desk.

'Face it, Crackshell, you're a coward, just like your old man! You can't even face the guy! How pathetic!' a sneering little voice in the back of his head said.

Fenton groaned and curled in on himself, his forehead practically on his desk.

'And to think you're Gizmoduck! How lame!' said the little voice.

Fenton began pulling at his hair in anger and self hatred.

"I shouldn't have to see him" Fenton said quietly to himself, responding to the nasty little voice in his head. "Scroogey said I didn't have to if I didn't want to and HE said I wasn't being cowardly about it!"

'He just said that to make you feel better' replied the nasty little voice.

"You know what, voice! I don't like you! I am a happy positive person, thank you very much! And I won't have any more of this sort of talk!" answered Fenton. He then sat up straight with a look of determination on his face.

It was then he saw that someone was standing in front of his desk, which scared the living daylights out of him. Fenton, not having expected anyone to be there, screamed in alarm before promptly falling out of his chair.

"I'm sorry to interrupt what sounded like a very...private...conversation you were having with yourself Fenton, but I need the statistics report from last month" said the mallard in front of him.

Fenton managed to drag himself back up into the chair, his chest still trying to gain back the air that had been knocked out of him from the scare. Once he was back in his face, he looked up at the person speaking to him and saw that it was none other than Drake Mallard. The shorter mallard was wearing his signature salmon colored shirt and green vest, though he was also wearing a matching salmon tie to add a touch of professionalism.

"Oh, right! Sorry!" he squeaked before pulling open his desk drawer and going through the files to find the correct report. Once he acquired them, he handed them to Drake. "Here ya go!"

Drake nodded, taking them from the accountant and glancing through the file. Satisfied they were what he needed, Drake turned his attention to Fenton. "You okay?"

Fenton mumbled an unconvincing yes.

Drake made a humming sound in the back of his throat as he went back to his desk, which just happened to be right behind Fenton's.

Drake Mallard, also known as Darkwing Duck, had moved from St. Canard to Duckberg about six months prior after a great misfortune had taken place. His time as Darkwing Duck was not over, but it was more of the sidelines than before. He now tried to focus on moving on with his life and keeping Gosalyn in school as long as possible. They lived with Launchpad, just like in St. Canard. The crime rate had decreased greatly in both cities and the need for Darkwing Duck was not nearly as needed. Though from time to time he did scout as a vigilante.

Fenton had helped him get his current job working as the Data Analyst at McDuck industries. It was not Drake's favorite thing to do, but it paid the bills.

Drake sighed, adjusting the position of the little Darkwing Duck figurine he had on his desk. "Alright, Fenton...Tell me what's wrong..."

"I don't want to talk about it" Fenton replied snappily.

"Since when do YOU, of all people, not want to walk about something? You ALWAYS want to talk about anything and everything!" replied Drake in surprise and confusion.

"Well, not today!" said Fenton in a tone that meant the conversation was over.

Drake shrugged and began going over the files he had asked for.

After a few minutes of listening to Fenton squirm in his seat and fiddle around at his desk, Drake quietly began to count down. "Three...Two...One..."

"Okay, Drakey! I DO have to talk about this!" cried out Fenton as he turned around and hung off the front of Drake's desk.

Drake set the pen he had been holding and folded his arms. "Okay...What's up?"

Fenton winced before asking shyly, "First off...How is your relationship with your dad?"

Drake blinked; caught completely off guard. "W-What? My dad?"

Fenton nodded.

After the initial shock, Drake shrugged. "Never met him."

"What?"

"Never met him. I've never met either of my parents, actually" came Drake's even reply.

Fenton frowned in confusion. "But wait a minute! Launchpad showed me a picture of you in your high school year book that one time I was at your old place and in one of the picture's you were standing with your parents! It was like a chess match thingy!"

Drake opened up his mouth to explain before scowling. "Wait-Launchpad showed you my high school yearbook!?"

Fenton winced and face palmed. "Oi! I wasn't supposed to tell you that!"

Drake scowled. "Whatever. But you're right. There was that picture but those were my foster parents. Not my real parents."

Realization came to Fenton's face. "I didn't know you were adopted, Drakey!"

Drake nodded. "Yeah. I was never really too close to my foster parents either. That photo is one of the few I have with them. They were nice and all and they got me through school but...We were never too close. I lost touch with them as soon as I came old enough to move out on my own."

"Is that why you adopted Gosalyn? Cause you were an orphan too?" was Fenton's next question.

Drake shrugged. "Not really. I adopted her because I loved her instantly and I wanted to be a part of her life. She was the first person I felt really wanted to get to know me and be around me."

Fenton nodded, a small smile on his beak.

"But anyways, enough about me" continued Drake. "Why do you ask?"

Fenton was suddenly nervous again. "W-Well...My P'pa showed up...for the first time since I was three...And...I'm really freaked out about it."

"Why?"

"See! That's the thing! I don't know WHY he showed up! He just did and I-" began Fenton before he was cut off.

"No. I mean, why are you freaked out?" enlightened the data manager.

Fenton scratched the back of his neck as he tried to think of an answer. His eyes turned to the little frame on Drake's desk. He spun it around to see an older portrait of Drake, Gosalyn, and Launchpad.

Drake grabbed the frame and put it back where it was. "Well?"

"I don't know. I just..." mumbled Fenton. He sat down in his chair, pulling it closer to Drake's desk. "All my life I grew up knowing he abandoned us...You know, M'ma and me...And I always hated the concept of it, you know? And I grew up knowing what a failure of a father he was and I never wanted to be like him! I still don't! And I guess I'm just nervous as to why he's come back..."

"You're afraid you turned out like him?" questioned Drake.

Fenton nodded vehemently. "And I'm NOT like him! AT ALL! I'm not a failure! I'm really not!"

Drake gave him a sad smile. "Who are you trying to convince here? Me? Or yourself?"

Fenton stared at him, unsure of his to respond.

"You're nothing like your dad, Fenton. I don't even know the guy and I can tell that much. Anyone who is that worried about not failing, won't be a failure. You're too hard a worker. You make mistake,s, sure, like burning my hand that one day when you spilled coffee on my hand-" Drake glared at him over the memory.

Fenton blushed sheepishly.

"But you are not a failure. Anyone who knows you can tell you that much" Drake pressed on.

"But...I'm afraid he'll want to see me! I mean, he came up to the mansion and everything. It's clear what he wants and he probably won't leave till he sees me!" Fenton said worriedly.

Drake shrugged and he leaned back in his own chair. "So? Talk to him? What's the worst that could happen. Meet the guy, see what he wants. Then leave. He can't control you. He can't do anything to you. And we both know, if he DOES try anything, Mr. McDuck will see to it he's in jail for life!"

Fenton turned away, his face going hot as he pictured how angry and protective his paramour could get sometimes when it came to his husband. "Yeah..." he mumbled. "That's true..."

"If you have to...Have Mr. McDuck be there with you" offered Drake. "No one said you had to talk to him alone, right?"

Fenton nodded slowly, thinking it over. "I guess I didn't think of it that way."

Drake nodded with a smile.

"Alright! I WILL talk to my P'pa! But on MY terms! And it'll all be okay!" exclaimed Fenton as he rose from his chair, nearly tipping it over.

"Actually, things would be even more okay if you would finally start using an indoor voice and start doing your work" quipped Drake.

Fenton sat back down with a nervous chuckle. "Thanks, Drakey!"

Drake hummed in reply, his focus now back on his work.

Fenton looked back over his desk, seeing the work in front of him. He hadn't even thought about having Scrooge there with him for support when he confronted his P'pa. Perhaps even M'ma could be there too! He had completely forgotten that he didn't need to be alone in any of this! Everything was going to be okay!

"Seriously, Fenton, you really need to stop talking to yourself like that! You seem to think you're saying it in your head. You're really not" came Drake's deadpan voice from behind him.

Fenton grasped both hands over his beak in shock that he had said that out loud.

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Author's Note: Little cameo of Drake Mallard from Darkwing Duck. If any of you are confused, this goes along with my other fic, "Beginnings and Endings". If you read that story, you'll understand this bit better. Thanks, enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

"WHAT D'YA MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW WHY YER NUMBERS ARE OFF!?" came the infuriated screaming of Scrooge McDuck.

The shouting was impressive in and of itself if not for the added effect that they could hear him so loud and clear while his office door was shut. No one in the McDuck offices wanted to imagine how loud their employer's shouting was on the other side of the door.

Fenton flinched at the volume of his paramour's voice. It would seem his husband wasn't having any better of a day than he was.

After having chatted with Drake about his nerves over having to see his father, Fenton had managed to push his anxious thoughts away and focus on the task at hand: Figuring out why the Cotton Company's sales numbers were off. For the better part of the day, Fenton had been studying page after page of status reports, shipment reports, receipts, checks, loans, taxes and everything in between. It was exhausting, if Fenton was being honest with himself.

No matter where he looked, he couldn't figure out why the numbers were off. The amount of shipments being ordered and sent out were correct. Yet whenever the final report came back, tallying the monthly expenses and sales charts, the company was losing $5,000 every month. For the life of him, Fenton couldn't figure out where the money was going.

Glancing back down and willing the urge to burst into Scrooge's office and hold his love close, Fenton grumbled, "Something screwy is going on here..." He glared at the sales chart he was looking at. "I mean, I know some people sometimes miscount and are off a few dollars, but this is ridiculous!"

As though to mirror Fenton's irritation, more of Scrooge's angry shouting sounded through the wooden door. "CURSE ME KILTS! HOW DOES A COMPANY LOSE MONEY WITHOUT REALIZING IT!?"

Fenton took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, setting the report on his desk. He rubbed at his temples. He glanced over at Mrs. Quackfaster, who was doing her best not to look at the door with alarm. The accountant then swerved his chair to look at the other occupants of the room, noting that they were all just as nervous as Mrs. Quackfaster. It was normal; for they feared Scrooge's anger would be turned on them and they would lose their job.

"FORGET IT! I WON'T BE HAVIN' YOU LOT LOOK OVER ANYTHING! I'LL LOOK OVER THOSE DATA REPORTS MESELF!"

There was the distinct sound of Scrooge's phone being slammed back down on its cradle and Fenton winced at the sound. He vaugely wondered if he should bother ordering Scrooge a new phone since by the sound of it, Scrooge just broke his current one.

Fenton didn't have a chance to think it over for very long, for a minute later, Scrooge swung the door to his office open, causing the door to whack itself into the wall. The sudden loud sound caused everyone to jump in their seats and their eyes widened in fright at the sight of a raging Scrooge McDuck.

While everyone was frozen in fear of their seething employer, Fenton just gazed at his unhappy husband in sympathy. Fenton was sure he was the only person in the room currently not fearing for their lives, but then again, no one else had the ability to soothe the angry mallard like he did.

No one said a word as Scrooge stomped his way into the office room. Everyone waited for the inevitable. "Mr. Beckler!" snapped Scrooge as he turned to a middle aged canine in a blue suit with a red tie.

The loan officer in question jumped in his chair and nearly fell off it. He scrambled to stand up as the rich duck made his way over. "Y-y-y-yes, Mr. McDuck? How may I be of s-s-s-ervice!?"

Scrooge's eyebrow's narrowed in anger and suspicion as he angrily tapped his cane on the tiled floor. "Mr. Conswob, over at Light Cotton, is saying that the loans I gave him last fall were for $20,000. Is that correct?"

Mr. Beckler was visibly sweating as he looked down at the numerous files on his desk and immediately started flipping through them, trying his best to quickly find the loan report that was being inquired about.

Scrooge growled with impatience. "What is takin' so long!?" He turned his attention to everyone in the room. "I had asked you all to pull out the files for this factory and look them over! You should all have had a hand in this deal! SO WHY ARE NONE OF YOU LOOKING ANY OF THIS OVER!?"

Seeing the absolute terror Scrooge was unleashing in his fellow associates, Fenton chose this moment to stand from his desk and, according to everyone else, bravely walk up to Scrooge. The accountant leaned over and calmly whispered into his love's ear. Scrooge started slightly at the sudden close proximity yet said nothing, most likely because he knew it was only Fenton.

"Shhh..." he said softly. "It's okay, Scroogey. We're gonna sort this all out, I promise. Just give these guys a break. They're not gonna get any work done with you freaking them out and threatening them."

Scrooge turned and glared at Fenton. Anyone else would swear they were about to be beaten by the rich duck's cane at that point, but Fenton held his ground and kept his gaze soft but firm.

After a very brief staring contest, Scrooge looked away with a huff, the anger in his small frame fading slightly.

By this point, Mr. Beckler had managed to find the reports Scrooge had asked about. "H-Here, Mr. McDuck! I found the loan!"

"And?" prompted Scrooge snappishly.

"A-And-" Mr. Beckler managed. He looked over the papers in his hand, confirming his answer. "Yes! The loan we gave them was for $20,000."

This seemed to displease Scrooge further. "Then why is Light Cotton still losing money?! That loan should have covered more than enough of the expenses of both incoming and outgoing shipments!"

"I-I-I don't understand it either, s-sir!" squeaked Mr. Beckler as he hid half his face behind the reports as though they would save him from Scrooge's wrath.

Scrooge whirled around on his next victim. "Mr. Mallard!"

Drake Mallard has faced a lot of terrifying experiences in his lifetime as a masked vigilante; having gone up against the likes of Taurus Bulba and Negaduck. Though he would never admit it out loud, Drake was finding it hard to see how any of those past villains held a candle to how terrifying Scrooge McDuck could be.

Keeping the tremor out of his voice, Drake answered meekly, "Yes, Mr. McDuck?"

"Have you looked over the data reports for Light Cotton?" was Scrooge's question.

Drake nodded. "Yes."

"Was there anything amiss?"

Drake glanced at his own reports. "No. Incoming and outgoing shipments have been solid. There have been no miscalculations. Everything has been accounted for. No reports of missing or damaged products. Sales have been high..." he trailed off, not knowing what else to say. He looked back at his employer with a shrug. "Everything seems fine."

Scrooge closed his eyes and snarled.

"Scroo-Ermm...Mr. McDuck?" Fenton spoke up, barely remembering to catch himself in calling his husband by his professional name. Fenton had a hard time keeping up with it, but he made it a habit to keep things as professional as he could at work, for he knew Scrooge preferred it that way.

Scrooge turned his attention to his accountant and raised an eyebrow at him.

"I have something of note to offer."

Scrooge's eyes widened a bit. "Oh? What did ya find, Mr. Crackshell?"

"Well, I've been looking over everything from business loans to simple cash receipts, sir. And I've seen a pattern. What makes it baffling is how none of this is showing up in any other reports. Whatever is going on is being hidden rather well!" started Fenton.

Scrooge leaned forward in anticipation; waiting for more. "And...? What was it ya found that was odd!?"

Fenton could tell Scrooge was reaching his level of patience, even with him. "Every month, the company is losing $5,000."

Scrooge's eyes went wide in alarm. "BLESS ME BAGPIPES! Tell me it isn't true!"

"Sorry, Scroo- Mr. McDuck- I really wish I could! But I've been digging a bit deeper and I still have some more research to do, but I suspect someone is taking that money! Every month $5,000 is disappearing-Now the only place I haven't been looking is individual employee payrolls." He raised a finger to keep Scrooge from interrupting. "The only reason I haven't is because the secretary over at Light Cotton has been giving me grief. Saying something about Employee Privacy Acts or something like that..."

Scrooge nodded. "Aye, its a damn curse, it is. I get WHY it exists, but in times like this, it makes my life harder!" Scrooge shook his head and looked away. "So, you think it could be an employee who's laundering or embezzling this money?"

Fenton nodded and threw his arms out in emphasis. "It's gotta be! Payroll for employees is the only thing we haven't been able to get access to! I've tried contacting their accountant over at Light Cotton, but I keep getting 'disconnection' every time I try! And the secretary is tired of repeating herself that that IS the right number!"

Scrooge shook his head. "Ugh, I'll have to figure something out regarding that. And sadly I won't get anywhere with it t'day." He paused and looked at everyone's terrified faces. Knowing he had frightened his workers, he tipped his hat to them and said, "Thank you all for your hard work. Now, KEEP AT IT! Or it comes outta yer pay!"

Fenton couldn't help the goofy smile on his face as he turned away from everyone. None of them knew the worth of Scrooge's hidden compliment to them like he did. Scrooge did not openly give out compliments to anyone; one had to listen for them carefully.

"Come along, Fenton" muttered Scrooge quietly to Fenton as he walked past the accountant.

Fenton followed his husband like a little lost puppy; no more than three steps behind him. He didn't have to look at the clock to know it was time to go home. Through the open door to Scrooge's office, he could see the sun starting to get low on the horizon; informing everyone that it was getting late in the afternoon and becoming early evening.

He followed Scrooge into his office, shutting the door quietly behind him. The rich duck took off his top hat and set it on his desk with a sigh. "Oh, I suppose I'll jus' have t'wait another day t'figure out this madness..."

Fenton titled his head in understanding, walking up to Scrooge and wrapping his arms around the shorter duck's torso. Placing his chin on Scrooge's shoulder, Fenton said, "Aww, don't you worry, Scroogey! You just get me access to that payroll list and I'll figure out who's taking away your money!"

Scrooge exhaled as his eyelids lowered. "Oh, Fenton...What did I ever do to deserve you?" he said lovingly.

Fenton, who was lightly kissing the spot on Scrooge's neck where his neck and chin met, said happily, "You saw potential where no one else did, just like you always do! You gave a poor lonely bean counter a chance and never stopped giving up on him! That's what you did!"

"Aye, and I earned myself somethin' worth more than all the gold in the world..." sighed Scrooge contentedly.

Suddenly the arms around Scrooge tightened. "Oooh, I love it when you say such things, Scroogey! It makes my heart soar!"

Teasingly, Scrooge added, "Though, perhaps not worth more than all the diamonds in the world..."

Fenton released Scrooge with an indignant squeak. "I'll show those diamonds! Just you wait! I'll prove myself even more and be better than any ol' diamonds you could ever want!"

Scrooge openly laughed. He cupped his hands around Fenton's face. "I have no doubt, lad." He then kissed Fenton on the forehead. He then released his lovesick husband who practically had hearts in his eyes.

"Let's go home..." suggested Scrooge. He walked around to the other side of his desk, pushing his chair aside and making sure all the drawers in his desk were locked and secure. He then checked the money bin. He walked inside and waved goodbye to all his precious money. Fenton watched patiently as his husband did his nightly ritual before leaving for the day.

Despite the stress over the missing money at Light Cotton, both Scrooge and Fenton found themselves to be in higher spirits as Duckworth drove them home. Both of them were quiet in the car ride home; both looking out the window and staring off into space.

It wasn't until Duckworth was pulling into the driveway did both of them notice the huddled form sitting near the bushes by the house. The same place they had left him that morning.

Doran appeared to have made himself at home, much to the married couple's chagrin.

"Ach, he's still here!?" groused Scrooge. He glanced over at Fenton. "I'm startin' t'see where ya got your stubborn refusal t'understand the concept of 'no'."

Fenton gulped, his high spirits immediately plummeting. "Don't even joke about that, Scroogey!"

Scrooge shook his head. "That senseless oaf can't take a hint! I'm callin' the police the moment we get inside!"

"N-No!" squeaked Fenton uncertainly.

"Whaaaat?" blinked Scrooge in bewilderment. He watched as Fenton anxiously fiddled with his hands in his lap; clearly having a silent debate with himself.

"D-Drake and I had a chat earlier today-He said I should just go ahead and talk to P'Pa! See what he wants at least!" explained Fenton. "I mean, the guy did come all this way to see me. Maybe he just wants to say 'hello'! What kind of a person would I be if I don't even give the guy a chance? That'd make me typical!"

Scrooge's eyes narrowed. "I think the word yer lookin' for is 'hypocritical'" he deadpanned.

Fenton nodded, undeterred. "Right! I've given it some thought, Scroogey, and I would be a disappointment to myself if I stop and quit now! I'm always on about people giving me a chance! So why should I deny someone else that chance? Even if it IS my P'pa!"

Scrooge thought this over as Duckworth parked the car. They could hear the butler shutting off the engine and getting out of the car. The accountant had a fair point, the old miser concluded. "But Fenton-" he began uncertainly. He glanced past Fenton and out the window where Doran was looking over their way. "Just t'is mornin' you were a lost cause mess over just bein' near the man. Now suddenly you want t'have a civil conversation with him?"

Fenton groaned. "No, but I just feel its the right thing to do, you know?"

Scrooge inhaled and exhaled deeply, his eyes once again going to where he could see Doran slowly making his way over to the car. "It's up to you, lad. I told ya, I won't think any less of ya for ignorin' him, but talk to him if you want. I won't stop you." He paused and scowled at out of the window behind Fenton where Doran was now about ten feet from the car. "Though I can't say you'll be able to stop ME if he tries any funny business."

Fenton chuckled. "You DO care!" he teased.

"Eh, I just know ya work better when you're not a blubbering mess, is all" Scrooge brushed off the comment with a smirk. His expression turned serious though as he titled his head forward to gesture to Doran. "Heads up, laddie. Here's yer chance to talk to him."

Fenton's eyes widened and his spine tingled as he slowly turned just in time to watch Doran knock on the tinted glass window. "Hellooo?"

Fenton winced and gulped once more and Scrooge watched as his younger husband gathered his courage and opened the car door.

Doran backed away when the door began to open, a large grin on his face and a toothpick between his teeth.

Fenton slipped out of the car and shut the door behind him, his eyes glued to the ground as he stood before his long lost father.

Seeing that he would have to be the one to make the first move, Doran beamed at his son. "Hello, son!" He opened his arms like he had done earlier that morning; expecting Fenton to reciprocate his hug.

Fenton instead turned to look behind him as he heard Scrooge getting out of the car. Once Scrooge was out, Duckworth drove the car away to be parked in the garage. Scrooge was looking past Fenton and giving Doran his signature glare.

Forgetting about the attempt to hug it out with his son, Doran exclaimed, "I'll be! And Mr. Hidden Sense of Humor is here too!"

Scrooge's eyes narrowed. "I live here, ya dingus."

Unfazed, Doran nodded. "Right, right. So, how are you boys doin' this fine evenin'?" This question was more directed at Fenton than to the both of them, for Doran's eyes were now focused on his silent son.

"It was okay" Fenton managed; saying the first words to his father since he'd been a young child.

The excitement in Doran's eyes lit up as he finally got a response out of Fenton. "Glad to hear it, sonny!" he replied joyously. He patted Fenton on the shoulder and causing the accountant to flinch and take a step back.

Seeing Fenton struggling urged Scrooge to take action. "Perhaps the two of you would like t'go inside and sit down t'a nice pot of tea?" His voice was polite but his expression was not.

Fenton glanced back at Scrooge with a relieved sort of look while Doran frowned. "Tea? Like the stuff little girls in frilly dresses drink?"

Scrooge scowled. "Tea as in the drink half the world drinks, ya uncultured swine!"

Doran shrugged. "Not MY half of the world." He glanced at Fenton. "You drink tea like a little frilly girl, Fenton?"

Too nervous to be truly offended, Fenton nodded as he finally found his voice. "Well, sure! I drink tea! Never used to much before I met Scrooge, here...But I've come to really enjoy lots of different teas! My favorite right now is actually The Scottish Breakfast teas...They've got a unique taste, but I like 'em!" He looked over his father's head, still unable to meet his eyes. "I have a bit of a specialty for breakfast in general, I'll have ya know!"

"Scottish teas?" Doran found himself asking.

Fenton nodded. "Scrooge here-my husband-is from Scotland originally."

"Ahh, that explains the fancy accent! I just figured that was a rich person thing!" laughed Doran.

Fenton and Scrooge both gave him unimpressed looks before turning and guiding the unwanted visitor into the mansion and into the sitting room.

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It was a strained and awkward affair getting Doran inside the house and the lot of them settled into the living room with Mrs. Beakley bringing them their tea.

As Fenton and Doran settled down next to each other in the room, sitting on comfortable green chairs with a short coffee table between them, Scrooge excused himself. Fenton couldn't help but send a panicked look towards his paramour as he left; knowing Scrooge was only wishing to give them privacy. He just hoped Scrooge wouldn't go too far.

Mrs. Beakley came back into the room and set a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table next to their tea. "Here you go, gentlemen" she told them kindly.

Doran looked up at Mrs. Beakley. "Can't say I've ever been waited on by such a lovely lady before!"

Mrs. Beakley gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're too kind Mr. -umm..."

"Crackshell! Doran Crackshell, Ma'am! And don't you be forgettin' it!" he winked at her.

Uncertain of what to do, Mrs. Beakley glanced at Fenton, who shrugged. Mrs. Beakley quickly left the two of them alone.

Fenton grabbed his cup of tea, forcing his hands not to shake so he didn't spill his tea. He sipped at the hot tea longer than necessary in hopes to avoid talking just a little bit longer.

"So..." began Doran. "Look, son...I know what yer thinkin'."

Fenton raised an eyebrow at this, setting his tea down. "You do?"

Doran nodded. "Yessir. I'll bet yer thinkin', 'why, after all these years, is my ol' pop snoopin' around suddenly interested in my life?' Am I right?"

"Um...Yeah, actually."

"Well, son, let me tell ya" continued Doran. He pushed himself up till he was sitting at the edge of the chair. Using his hands to elaborate his words, he said, "I've never been the type of fella who can stand t'be in one place fer too long. I'm selfish that way, I suppose. And when I met your M'ma...Well, it was like fireworks. You ever have that feelin'? Ya suddenly see someone, maybe not for the first time, but in a new way and suddenly its like everything makes sense?"

Fenton thought about the first time he realized how much he cared about Scrooge and how the next day he had kissed him and how there had been fireworks in his eyes after being hit with Scrooge's cane in retaliation. Tilting his head, Fenton said, "I guess so...I guess that's how you could say it was with me and Scrooge." He forced himself not to say, 'Scroogey', not wanting his father to hear the affectionate term he used on his paramour for unknown reasons.

For the tiniest of moments, Doran made a face, but it was gone so quickly, Fenton wasn't sure he had even seen it.

Doran shook his head and pressed on, "Well, yer M'ma was...and still IS...a real firecracker when she wants t'be. So, makes sense I was head over heels for her. But...I got in real deep with her...Deeper than I had expected and next thing I knew, we lived in the city and we had you and...I just couldn't handle it! I felt trapped! I need t'be out in the wilderness, explorin', adventurin', seein' the world! Ya get me?"

With a frown, Fenton nodded. "So, you abandoned us."

Doran looked away. "It was for the best, son, really it was."

The anger Fenton suddenly felt kept him from being able to sit as he jumped out of his seat and stood towering over his P'pa. "HOW!? How was abandoning M'ma and me anything but wrong and selfish!?"

Doran had leaned back as Fenton stood angrily over top of him. "It's not like I would have been any better with ya'll! You two were better off without me! I could barely keep a job and I'd have just been in the way!"

"But you would have BEEN there at least!" shouted Fenton. His voice broke ever so slightly at those words. "Do you have any idea how it was for ME!? I just remember waking up in the night wondering if I was the reason you left! Because I wasn't good enough! Because you didn't like me and that I was a failure of a son! That's how you made me feel by leaving!"

Doran stood as well and looked Fenton straight in the eyes. "NEVER! You were never the reason I left! I left because I couldn't handle livin' in the city!"

"Then you and M'Ma could have moved out in the country or something!" argued Fenton.

Doran shook his head. "But there was no WORK out in the country! We'd have had no income!"

Fenton groaned in frustration and crossed his arms; looking anywhere but at Doran.

"Look, son. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made you feel that ya weren't good enough. That was never my intention..." He sighed. "If anythin', you and M'Ma were too good fer ME..."

Fenton's angry expression softened at his words as he glanced over at him from the side.

Doran continued. "I screwed up, Fenton. And I'm sorry. But I'm here now and all I want is to get t'know ya. Can't ya give yer ol' man a chance?"

Fenton stiffened at those words. Doran had unknowingly hit his weak spot. After a long moment, Fenton sat back down and Doran soon followed. "M'ma thinks you're just here for money."

"Pfft. Yeah, she told me that this mornin'. Not even givin' me the benefit of the doubt. I don't need money. I've got that sorted out, believe it or not. I may be a freeloader to some, but I work for my money just the same..." said Doran. He grabbed one of the cookies Mrs. Beakley had left. "So...enough about me...Tell me about yerself, Fenton!"

Fenton grabbed one of the cookies and nibbled on it as he contemplated whether or not to hear his father out and give him a chance. He was known for begging people to give HIM a chance. Why shouldn't he do the same for his father? At length he said, "Well, I'm an accountant."

"Oh yeah?"

Fenton nodded. "I started out as Scrooge's accountant. That's how I met him."

"I'll be darned" whistled Doran. He looked away almost awkwardly as he said, "I'll bet it was love at first sight, eh?"

Fenton shook his head. "No. At that time I was dating my ex-girlfriend, Gandra Dee. We started dating about the same time."

"Ahh, so it's not just the men who turn yer head, huh?" teased Doran.

Fenton blushed and made a face. "Sorry, P'pa, but we're NOT discussing my love life ANY further!"

"Aww, yer no fun!" lamented Doran as he ate another cookie. Changing the subject, he asked, "So is accounting the only thing you've ever done?"

Fenton shook his head. "No. I was once a bean counter at a Bean Factory before I got my current job. I've won the world's record of being the best counter! All I gotta do is look at a jar of beans and I can instantly figure out the exact number of beans in there!"

Doran's eyes went wide with pride. "You got my talent for numbers!" he exclaimed happily.

"Huh?"

Doran stood and before the accountant knew what was happening, Doran was sitting beside him and hugging him. "Oh, you inherited my knack fer numbers too!"

"Really?"

Doran nodded. He looked around the room for an example. His eyes landed on jar that kept some of Huey, Dewey, and Louie's marbles. He pointed to it. "In that jar over there! There are 63 marbles in it! See fer yourself!"

Fenton looked over at the said jar and his mouth fell open when he counted exactly 63 marbles inside it. There was no way his father could have known that without having his goft with counting as well. "You're right! There IS 63 marbles in there!"

Doran nodded excitedly. The two of them had found some common ground and the conversation quickly turned to them telling stories of all the times they've had to use their ability of counting and numbers. This was the first time Fenton had ever found someone who was as good at numbers and figures as he was!

It wasn't until Scrooge knocked on the door two hours later that both of them realized how long they had been chatting. Scrooge walked up to stand next to Fenton's chair, placing a gentle hand on his husband's shoulder. "Achem" he cleared his throat to gain their attention. "I'm afraid its getting rather late, Mr. Crackshell."

Doran looked up at Scrooge and though the rich duck's words held sincere politeness, he could see in the older duck's hard eyes just how unwelcome he actually was in Scrooge's mansion.

Whether Fenton was aware of Scrooge's hidden hostility was unclear from his expression, but he smiled at Scrooge nonetheless. "Scrooge! It turns out I got my talent for numbers from him!"

Scrooge couldn't help but smile fondly at Fenton as he ran a hand through the others feathers. "Oh?"

Fenton nodded. "He and I have been sharing stories about all the times we've been in counting contests!"

Scrooge nodded. "Splendid! Glad t'hear it! But sadly, its getting late and we have a very busy day tomorrow, Fenton. We have to start getting ready fer bed."

"Still have a bedtime, son?" jeered Doran.

Scrooge shot a glare at Doran. "He's got a career."

Doran gave an unimpressed snort, but said nothing.

Fenton looked between the two of them, suddenly unsure what to say. He stood up. "Well, he has a point, P'Pa...I DO have to get up early in the morning. Perhaps we could meet up after work tomorrow, hm?"

Scrooge raised an eyebrow at Fenton, but said nothing. Earlier his husband had barely wanted anything to do with Doran and now suddenly he wanted to spend more time with him?

Doran nodded. "Sounds good to me!"

Scrooge didn't waste a moment. "Just head out the doors and Duckworth will see you out the door."

"Scroogey! That's a bit rude, don't ya think?" cried Fenton, appalled. Scrooge frowned at his husband, dreading what he already knew Fenton was going to suggest. "He can stay here for the night as our guest!"

Doran beamed at the idea. "Sure can! It'd be nice to sleep in a bed for a change!"

Fenton and Scrooge gave him a confused look before Scrooge cleared his throat and said, "But Fenton-em...You seemed so uncertain earlier..." he said quietly and uncertainly. His persona was showing a bit more nerves than he cared to show but he really didn't like the idea of Fenton's father in his home any longer than he needed to be.

Fenton seemed oblivious to Scrooge's discomfort. "I'm okay now, though!" he beamed.

Scrooge then watched as Fenton guided Doran upstairs and into one of the guest bedrooms.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

A while later found Scrooge and Fenton getting dressed into their bed clothes. Scrooge was getting dressed behind his dressing screen while Fenton was getting changed at the foot of the bed. He was in the midst of stepping into his onesie when Scrooge's voice called over from behind the screen.

"So...You and yer father seem t'be getting along..." the older duck left the subject open.

Fenton opened his beak to reply when he lost his footing and fell to the floor, his legs and feet getting tangled in the process. "Ooompfh!"

Scrooge looked out from behind his screen as he prepared to put his nightgown over his head. "Ya can't even get dressed without hurtin' yerself, laddie. What am I gonna do with you?" There was a light smirk on his beak as he said these words.

"I meant to do that..." Fenton half murmured, half chuckled. He set himself upright and managed to get his feet in the right place so he pull up his onesie. He then recalled Scrooge's question. "But...uh...Yeah! He's not really so bad after all!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah! Once we got over the whole, 'you abandoned M'ma and me' speal, it went pretty great!"

"So, you just automatically trust this guy, now, hmm? After all that blubberin' ya put me through t'is mornin'?" continued Scrooge as he stepped away from the screen and over to his husband. In his hands was his little bed hat.

"Pshaw! My blubbering doesn't bother you the way it used to, Scroogey, don't pretend otherwise!" he defended myself.

"That's what I want ya t'think!" muttered Scrooge teasingly.

Fenton ignored his comment and answered Scrooge's question. "And I guess I don't really trust him, per say, but...I'm giving him a chance."

Scrooge nodded. "I admire that, lad. I just don't want ya t'get hurt is all..." He pulled the fuchsia covers back and climbed into bed, Fenton quickly following. "So, you going to spend time with him tomorrow?"

"After work, yeah."

Scrooge nodded. "I'm happy fer ya, lad. I don't trust him, meself, but if you're happy about it, I am too."

Fenton smiled and wriggled his rump till he was under the covers. "Night Scroogey, my love, my paramour! May sweet dreams greet you!" He leaned over and Scrooge met him halfway. They shared a kiss that lingered for a moment before they pulled apart.

"Goodnight, Fenton."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Fenton and Scrooge were halfway through their daily morning routine by the time Doran entered the kitchen with sleepy eyes. He was still wearing the same outfit he had worn before since he had not brought any other clothes with him. His shirt looked extra rumpled; showing that he probably slept in it.

Scrooge was reading the morning newspaper like he always did with Fenton sitting beside him and eating the bacon and eggs he had cooked.

"Boy, you have a big kitchen" mumbled Doran.

Scrooge tore his eyes away from his newspaper to say boorishly, "It's the size of yer average kitchen. Trust me, it'd be smaller if I could have it. But it works."

"Why would'ya want it smaller? What are ya, a penny pincher?" laughed Doran, not realizing what he was saying.

Fenton squirmed in his seat as Scrooge was being insulted. He knew Scrooge already had a dislike for his father. "Just sit down and have some breakfast, P'p

a! I made it myself, I'll have ya know!"

"Hmm!" hummed Doran as he stepped over to the counter and saw the plate of bacon ready to be eaten.

"Go ahead and sit down, Mr. Crackshell and I'll make you a plate" Mrs. Beakley told him cheerily.

Doran was still clearly too tired to say anything else, for he sat on the other side of the loveseat opposite of Scrooge and Fenton. "Checkin' up on the ol' stock market, eh, Scroogey?"

The newspaper bent in half so Scrooge could glare at Doran for using that nickname. "I didn't get t'bein' the richest duck in the world without keepin' an eye on the competition."

As Mrs. Beakley set down Doran's plate of food, the ruffled duck gave Scrooge a wan smile. He pointed his fork at Scrooge. "Yer one of them workaholics, aren't ya?"

Scrooge, who was now hidden behind the newspaper, softly sneered, "Whatever gave ya that idea?"

Fenton, who was drinking his orange juice, gulped it down before saying, "Well, Scrooge and I will be leaving for work here in a few minutes. But after work we can talk some more."

"Sounds good" replied Doran with a mouthful of bacon in his mouth.

Scrooge huffed at his bad table manners but said nothing.

Fenton chose not to comment on it either. Instead, he said, "So, P'pa...How long are you in town for? Surely you didn't come here just to be me."

Doran waited till he was done chewing, thankfully, before answering. "Of course, son! Why else would I have come?"

Scrooge could be heard muttering something quietly under his breath before turning the paper. Neither or them were sure he was muttering from Doran's answer or something he'd read in the newspaper.

"He's so cute when he mutters!" gushed the accountant. Fenton leaned over and gave Scrooge a kiss on the cheek which only earned him more annoyed muttering. Clearly, by the billionaire's lack of reaction, he was used to random displays of affection from Fenton. This made the accountant chuckle. Seeing his father's uncertain look, he added, "Ignore him. He's not a morning person-Or an afternoon person-Or an evening person-Umm...Okay, he's not a very sociable person period unless we're talking about money."

Scrooge muttered some more but this time it was less gibberish and more understandable. "'Making' money. Talk about 'making me money' and I'll talk yer ear off."

Doran raised an eyebrow at the surly billionaire, clearly not understanding the dynamic between the two. He watched as Fenton brazenly lifted Scrooge's top hat and kissed him on top of the head. Doran could see the adoration Fenton had for Scrooge radiating off him in waves. He found himself looking away from feeling slight perturbed.

"Where's ol' Iva?" he asked in order to change the subject.

"M'ma? Oh, probably still asleep" answered Fenton distractedly. He pulled a piece of lint off Scrooge's shoulder. To his husband, he asked, "Ready to go, Scroogey?"

Scrooge folded the newspaper in front of him with a nod and stood up. "Yes. We have a busy day ahead of us!" As he started walking out of the kitchen, he called over his shoulder, "Have a good day, Mrs. Beakley!"

It was terribly noticeable how he said nothing to Doran.

Fenton waved to him. "Like I said, don't mind him. I'll see you this afternoon!"

Doran nodded and watched his son go. He continued to look at the door his son had just walked through as he continued to eat his bacon.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Once reaching the Money Bin, the day ended up more or less the same as the day before. Lots of angry phone calls from Scrooge and lots of nervous and anxious employees desperately trying to make him happy.

Though around noon, Scrooge finally managed to get the list of employee payroll over to Fenton, who immediately started looking through the file.

Scrooge stood before his desk; having just handed it to him. "I finally managed to get the past 14 months of payroll sent over. It was no easy task, let me tell you. But once they understand WHY I needed the files, they were a little more forgiving."

Fenton nodded. "Well, its just a matter of going through all the employees and seeing where its coming and going, sir."

Scrooge nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Crackshell." Scrooge turned on his heel and left without another word, shutting his office door behind him.

Drake, who was sitting behind Fenton, spoke up. "So, you think someone is laundering money?"

Fenton nodded. "It's gotta be! We've looked everywhere else in this company! I suspect its their accountant over there! I still haven't been able to get in contact with him and they're the ones who would be in charge of this sorta stuff! I find it suspicious!"

Drake clicked at his computer a few times before saying, "Hope you're right."

Silence fell between them as Fenton turned back to his desk and looked through each employee payroll record. Everyone was recieving the correct amount of money in their paychecks. So that wasn't the issue-Hold on.

Fenton's eyes landed on one of the numbers that had two too many zeroes at the end. He was currently looking at a chart that simply listed the employee's ID number and the amount they made for each month. Someone was getting way too much money. Doing the math quickly in his head, Fenton's eyes widened when he realized this employee was receiving exactly $5,000 extra every month. Each week they were making $1,250 more than they should be. That would explain the missing money! It was being embezzled and laundered, just as he had guessed.

Happily bouncing in his seat, Fenton immediately starting sorting through the employee files that would tell him who this person was via their ID number. Finally some answers for his paramour!

This person, whoever they were, were secretly giving themselves more money every paycheck! The employee was the factory's accountant, which made sense, since no one would see the numbers after the accountant; therefore no one would see the amount of money that was actually being laundered!

The accountant quickly looked up the ID number on the list of employees working there at Light Cotton. When he found the match and saw the name he dropped the paper on his desk in complete shock.

No, that couldn't be right!

Fenton shook his head. He had to be seeing things.

But sadly, as he looked at the paper again, he saw that the little ink letters were not lying to him. There, on the paper, matching the ID number, it said: 'Doran Crackshell'.

His father worked for Light Cotton?

What were the chances?

Fenton had no idea how long he stared at the piece of paper; unwilling to accept it. But somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he was breathing heavily, like he was hyperventilating.

He must have been, because in his fogged mind he could hear Mrs. Quackfaster and Drake speaking to him in concerned tones. Drake grabbed him by the shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of it.

"Fenton!" he called to the shocked accountant.

"Mr. McDuck-? Fenton, dear, are you alright?" came Mrs. Quackfaster's concerned voice.

Upon hearing his legal name that he shared with his paramour, Fenton blinked and managed to say, "Get Scrooge."

Drake and Mrs. Quackfaster looked to each other in confusion before the secretary turned to do as Fenton asked.

Inside his office, Scrooge had just gotten off the phone and was writing furiously on a piece of paper when Mrs. Quackfaster walked in. "Mr. McDuck?"

"I'm busy!" he snapped.

"I"m sorry, sir, but Mr. McDuck is asking for you" she told her employer. Mrs. Quackfaster was one of the few who actually called Fenton by his married name, so it caught Scrooge off guard.

"Eh?" He looked up.

Knowing she was confusing the already busy minded duck, she clarified. "Fenton, your husband, is asking for you. He's...Something has put him in a bit of a shock. He seems to be hyperventilating."

"What's wrong with him?" asked Scrooge, unwilling to part from his work.

Mrs. Quackfaster looked to be at a loss. "I don't know. But something seems to be quite wrong. One minute he was fine, just looking over the papers you gave him and the next thing we know he's trembling and breathing heavily."

Before Scrooge could say anymore there was the sound of someone slamming their fists down on their desk. "NOOO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NOOO!" came Fenton's infuriated shouts. More slamming and loud thuds could be hear and it sounded as though Fenton just threw his chair.

Scrooge and Mrs. Quackfaster stared with wide eyes, neither of them knowing what was going on.

Scrooge's shock turned into deep worry. Something truly awful must have happened for Fenton to act out in such a way. Without another word, Scrooge scrambled from his desk; the paperwork he'd been working on forgotten. He headed out his office door to find Fenton standing with his head buried in his one arm on the desk and using his other free hand to pound down.

Scrooge looked around and saw all of his employees watching. He didn't care for the attention but there was nothing he could do about it. The billionaire slowly stepped over to Fenton and leaned forward to quietly say, "Fenton- Come now- Stop this nonsense. Yer causin' a scene."

Fenton whipped his head up and Scrooge was shocked to find that Fenton was actually glaring at him. "I don't care!" Fenton pushed himself up till he was standing straight again. He grabbed the piece of paper that told him who was laundering money from his husband. He moved around his desk and walked up to Scrooge, shoving the piece of paper in his paramour's face. "LOOK! I FOUND OUT WHO'S TAKING YOUR MONEY, SCROOGEY! DO YOU SEE HIS NAME?"

Scrooge had flinched when the paper had been shoved into his personal space but he was quick to recover; snatching the paper from his raging husband. He ignored the sniffles that were now coming from Fenton, who looked to be losing a battle to keep back his tears.

He read down the list of names, none of them ringing any bells until he came to halfway through the page. His eyes landed on Doran's name.

"Ooh..." sighed Scrooge, the reality of it all sinking in. Scrooge looked up to see Fenton angrily stomping his foot on the ground and he knew then that he had to take his hurting husband home. He turned his head to speak over his shoulder, "Mrs. Quackfaster?"

"Yes, Mr. McDuck?"

"Call for Duckworth. We'll be heading home for the day" he replied sadly as he looked back to Fenton. Fenton didn't seem to be registering anything he was saying; too wrapped up in his own anger and hurt.

"Right away, Mr. McDuck" nodded Mrs. Quackfaster, who went to her desk and immediately called for Duckworth.

Meanwhile, Scrooge focused attention on his workers. "Alright, everyone! Get back to work! Show is over! It appears we have found the source of the problem so you can all go back to your normal tasks!" he ordered them. He watched as they all turned in their seats and got back to work. Satisfied, Scrooge turned back to Fenton and gently grabbed him the arms and tugged him into his office where they could talk privately. He shut the door with his foot as he pushed the angry Fenton along.

Fenton bit back a sob as Scrooge walked to stand in front of him. "Did you see, Scroogey!? Did you see who's been stealing money from you!?"

Scrooge nodded sadly. "Yes, me treasure...I saw..."

Tears were streaming down Fenton's face as he whimpered and hiccuped knowing how concerned his husband was if he was using such endearments. How his Scroogey always managed to say just the right things amazed him!

The rage had finally fizzled out, leaving the younger duck in a sea of tears and hurt. "H-He-He's a c-criminal- Scroogey..." Fenton whispered brokenly. He wrapped his arms around himself and bent over as though he was going to be sick. "My P-P'pa is a c-criminal..."

The hurting accountant found himself suddenly wrapped in the warm and safe embrace of his beloved husband. He melted into Scrooge's arms; desperate for the soothing comfort. While this wasn't exactly Scrooge's specialty, he knew enough on how to soothe his accountant; having had enough practice with his nephews over the past few years. Sentiment was far from Scrooge's forte, but he would deal with it for Fenton's sake.

Fenton winced and whimpered brokenly, "He stole money from your company, Scroogey..."

Scrooge nodded, patting Fenton on the back. "I know, me treasure, I know."

"He's been laundering money from you this whole t-time...and we didn't even...know it..."

"There was no way for us t'know yer father worked there. I may keep track of a lot of things, but I don't keep track of every single employee that gets hired at every single one of my companies...Perhaps now I should..." Scrooge tried and failed at humor, knowing that wasn't the right thing to say.

Fenton unwrapped his arms around himself and wrapped them around Scrooge, finally accepting his hug. "I wanna go home, Scroogey." He rested his chin on his husband's shoulder.

Scrooge nodded. "Aye, we are. We're going home. We've learned what we needed t'learn. We know who's been giving us problems. I'm just sorry you had t'be the one to suffer for it."

Fenton's bill quivered before he asked, "Why? Why would he do it? He HAD to have known you owned the company!" Fenton pulled back, his anger coming back with a flourish. "And he KNOWS I'm married to you! So-WHY!?"

Scrooge shushed him by grabbing Fenton gently by cupping his face. "Now, now, let's just get home and we can ask questions later. Come on, me treasure. Buck up. It's all gonna be okay."

Fenton nodded and buried his face in Scrooge's neck.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Iva was walking from her bedroom to the bathroom down the hall, dressed in her pink bath robe and curlers, when her eyes landed on Doran, who was admiring one of the mainly paintings of Scotland that were hanging on the walls.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw him. "Oh, blathering blatherskite! What are you doing in here!?"

Doran turned at her voice and smiled cheekily when he saw who it was. He whistled. "Lookin' awful fine there, Iva."

Iva scowled. "Does McDuck know you're in his house?"

Doran, who had turned back to the painting, nodded. He placed a toothpick in his mouth. "As a matter o'fact, he does! Our boy Fenton invited me in!"

Iva's eyes widened at this. "He did what?"

"Hmmhmm! I told ya he'd warm up to me" snickered Doran.

Iva rolled her eyes. "Don't let it go to your head. I'm sure you managed to sweet talk him into thinking you're some great guy. Fenton always has been naive. I'm sure you gave him the pity party story about how you're just some poor old coot who can't stand to be indoors. Has to be free and go off exploring, hmm?"

Doran shrugged, but gave no other verbal reply. He turned his attention to another painting.

Iva's glare intensified at his disinterest. "Still up to your ol' tricks, then?"

That gained Doran's attention. "What ol' tricks?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Doran. We both know how you've been managing to get by all these years without working much" she sneered.

A flash of anger glinted in Doran's eyes as his full attention was finally on his wife. He stomped his way over to her, glancing down the hallway and behind her as he did to see if anyone else was around. He pointed his toothpick at her which he had taken out of his mouth. "Now you go and shush yer trap, woman!" he growled; his whole carefree demeanor gone and changed into with an edging threat. "I do what I have to do t'get myself by. Don't you go judging me-You're living off our son afterall- Doesn't go and make you any better!"

"So I take it what you actually do for a living didn't come up in conversation last night?" guessed Iva.

"It was brushed over. He asked what I did, I told him I'm good with numbers" replied Doran. A grin appeared on his beak. "And boy did that make him happy! He got my brains, it seems!"

Iva gave him a deadpan expression. "Brains? Maybe. Morality? No. And thank heavens."

Doran gave her wicked smile. "You sure about that? I mean, he married the richest duck in the world. Out of all the fish in the sea he chose an old rich guy? Pfft. Like father and son, he is."

Iva was about to give an angry retort when the voice of an angry Scrooge McDuck interrupted them.

"CRACKSHELL!" he snapped loudly as though it was a curse.

Doran turned around to find Scrooge walking up to him with fury in his eyes and his cane clenched tightly in his hands. He vaugely wondered if the old miser had heard any of their conversation.

Doran turned to fully face the fuming duck, a large grin on his scraggly face. "Ahh, hello, Mr. Sense-of-Humor!"

Scrooge stopped just before Doran and glared at him. "Don't you try to act like we're friends!" Faster than Doran would have expected for a duck Scrooge's age, Scrooge snatched his hand tightly into Doran's ragged beard and pulled. Hard.

"YOWCH! What's yer problem, McDuck!?" he hollered in pain. He was forced to bend down as Scrooge pulled him to his level. He opened his eyes and was met with the livid stare.

"YOU ARE, ya theivin' scoundrel!" hissed Scrooge. He glanced up to see Iva still standing with amusement behind Doran, her hands on her hips and her eyes lit up with excitement as though she was about to watch her favorite soap opera. To her he said slightly kinder, "Mind if I borrow yer bum of a husband?"

Iva's smirk grew. "Go right ahead. Can I watch? This looks good."

Scrooge ignored her once she had given him permission that he was really only asking for out of civilty.

Doran made a deep growling noise in the back of his throat before grabbing Scrooge's arm that was holding his beard. "Watch yerself ya ol' pile of feathers!" he snarled. "I didn't come all the way here to be treated this way!" He twisted Scrooge's arm, causing the billionaire to release his beard, but Doran wasn't anticipating the sharp blow to the head he received from Scrooge's cane. This caused Doran to fall to the floor; letting Scrooge go in the process.

"Touch me like tha' again and I'll see ya locked up in jail fer the rest of yer pathetic life!" he sneered down at Fenton's father.

No longer caring for niceties, Doran pushed him up and snarled, "Better not do that-You're little hubby won't like it. Fenton won't be happy when he sees his sugar daddy treatin' his ol' man like this."

At this Scrooge's gave him a large devious smile. "Oh, really? Well, after learnin' ya work at my Light Cotton factory and learnin' about the dealings you've done there, I don't think Fenton gives two scents about ya."

Doran's face went lax and his feathers went pale. He stared at Scrooge with wide eyes.

Scrooge pressed on. "Surely you didn't think ya could work for one of MY factories and get away with launderin' money, did ya?"

Doran's eyes narrowed. "I want to see Fenton."

Scrooge nodded in contemplation, placing his hands behind his back. "Sure, sure. Fenton really should be the one ya discuss this with, after all. He's in the foyer."

Doran pushed past Scrooge and headed straight for the foyer. He would figure out what was going on. He would explain himself. Once Fenton heard his side of the story, his son would understand everything, he was sure of it. If Fenton was angry with him, he had no right to be.

The hill billy duck stomped his way into the foyer and stopped dead in tracks when he found Fenton sitting directly in front of him in one of the long backed cushion chairs. The accountant was slouched in his seat, his feet barely touching the floor and his arms crossed over his chest. His face was contorted into an uncharacteristic glower; his eyes narrowed. His beak was pulled down into a deep scowling pout. The normally positive, energetic duck loosely resembled a very angry child throwing a tantrum.

"Fenton-" said a startled Doran. He hadn't expected Fenton to look so angry, though in retrospect, he should have figured something was up when he saw Scrooge's almost victorious grin a moment ago. He glanced back to see that Scrooge and Iva had shut the door behind them; both with their arms crossed and glaring at him.

He turned back to Fenton. "Hey, son!" he said as carefree as he could. He fiddled with the sleeves of his vest by sticking his thumbs in them. He decided to play dumb. "So, how was work?"

Fenton pushed himself up into a proper sitting position. "Oh, joyous!" he exclaimed sarcastically. He hopped up from his spot and stood before his father. "It's just a kid's biggest dream to walk into work and find out their absentee father is a criminal! And here, all these years, I didn't think that dream would come true! Thanks, P'pa!"

Seeing that Fenton wasn't beating around the bush, Doran frowned. "Look, I ain't proud of it, alright, son? But I do what I gotta to get by in life!"

"But P'pa! You're laundering money! That's illegal in case you didn't figure that out!" argued Fenton. "And not only THAT, but you laundered money from the love of my life, Scrooge McDuck!"

Doran grunted in disgust, looking away. "Ugh, stop the act, Fenton! If you're takin' me down, I'm takin' ya with me! Stop tryin' to pretend ya love the ol' geezer!"

Fenton's eyes widened in surprise. "W-what!? Pretending? I'm not pretending anything, P'pa! Why would I pretend to love him?"

Scrooge answered before Doran could open his beak. "He thinks ya married me for me money, Fenton. Just like all those other nitwits out there."

Fenton gave Doran an appalled look. "No! I would never! That's Scrooge's money, not mine! And even still-I don't care if he's the richest or the poorest duck on Earth! He's the love of my life, the butter on my bread, the sunshine of my life, the guy who can make or break my day!"

"So dramatic" groused Doran. He turned to Iva. "Is he always this dramatic?"

"Always" replied Iva. Scrooge nodded in confirmation beside her.

Doran turned back to Fenton. "Whatever! You can fuss and dramatize this all ya want! You just want his money and lifestyle! You want the attention! And that makes you no better than me! Yes, I launder money from place to place! I told ya son, I'm good with numbers! Alls I gotta do is get hired as an accountant at some company every now and again, stay there for a good six months and work with the numbers and vamoose before anyone knows the difference. So long as I don't stay long and keep my head down, no one remembers ol' Doran Crackshell and they're too busy runnin' around like chickens with their heads cut off tryin' to figure out what happened to the missin' money! And the best part is; I know how to cover my tracks!" He turned on Scrooge. "Yer the first person to ever catch me at it!"

Scrooge gave him a victorious smile. "Oh, but it wasn't ME who figured it out. It was Fenton."

"Now there's some irony for you" laughed Iva. "Caught in the act by his own son."

Doran's frown deepened as he turned back to an equally upset Fenton. Fenton then spoke up, "You told me you came back to reunite with me." His voice cracked midway through his sentence.

"I did" Doran half pleaded. "Look, I'm not as young as I used t'be and it occurred to me just how much I've missed out on. Then one day, I'm walkin' down the street and I find yer name plastered on the newspaper next to McDuck's name. Then I see a news report about yer wedding and how it was all the news could talk about. I never did have the courage to come back here to Duckberg in fear of what I might find happened to yuns after I left. But when I saw how well you were doin' and how you'd weaseled yer way into a marriage with McDuck- Hell and tarnation, Fenton- I figured ya ended up just like yer ol' pop and was cheatin' the ol' miser out!"

"Ya couldn't be farther from the truth, Doran. I've seen a lot of theivin', cheatin', selfish scum in my days...Do ya honestly think I'd have been tricked into such a thing? Did ya not think that was one of my first suspicions about Fenton when he said he loved me? That it dennae even cross me mind?" asked Scrooge.

Doran shrugged defensively. "Guess not" he mumbled in admittance. He turned back to Fenton. "But son, despite all that, I REALLY did come back to get ya know ya." He boldly walked up to Fenton and wrapped his arms around him in a firm hug. "I've been wantin' ta meet ya for years-But I was just too big a coward to...And I see now what all I've missed out on."

In Doran's arms, Fenton had begun to tremble as he choked back a sob. It was clear to Iva and Scrooge the inner battle the accountant was having. They both knew how badly Fenton was taking to finding out his father was a criminal. Moral values had always been such a high priority to Fenton his whole life. It was one of the main things Scrooge knew Fenton loved about him. About how fair Scrooge was. It was why he prided himself so much in being Gizmoduck.

Fenton shook his head, slowly prying himself out of Doran's hold. He pushed Doran away and took a step backwards. "Well, I'm sorry, but you blew it."

Doran's eyes went wide as he gave Fenton a crushed look.

"I grew up without you, always wondering why you left and now that you're here and I know who you are..." he looked Doran right in the eyes. "I wish I didn't know you. At least then I could keep pretending you were some great guy doin' great things and just too busy to come find us. Too busy being a great guy for some other family."

Silence filled the room.

No one said anything and after a short while, Scrooge walked over to the doors and tapped the wooden door three times. Duckworth, who must have been waiting on the other side of the door, opened it and asked, "Yes, sir?"

"Duckworth, please get the police on the phone. We have found the one responsible for the missing money at Light Cotton factory" he ordered his butler.

Duckworth nodded. "Right away, sir."

Doran had watched the whole interaction with heartbreak. He turned back to Fenton. "Please, Fenton, son. I told ya, I can't stand bein' in tightly closed spaces. I'll go mad in a place like that!"

Fenton wasn't looking at him; his face filled with despair. "Shoulda thought of that before illegally taking money." Doran sighed and hung his head in defeat.

It was then as though someone had pushed a button or flipped a switch. Doran's head suddenly snapped back up and he sneered at Fenton. "You no good, egg sucker!"

Fenton flinched at his sudden change in attitude and Scrooge and Iva watched as Doran advanced on him.

"You think yer so much better! Yer just like all those other snooty rich folk! Yer no better than me! Lie to yerself all ya want about bein' with love with that ol' duck! I know the truth! Yer just in it for the money and title! Ya ungrateful whelp!"

Doran was about to continue spitting vile words to Fenton in his anger and betrayal when he felt himself being twirled around by a hand on the shoulder so he was facing Scrooge. Doran barely had time to register what was happening before Scrooge's fist met with his jaw. Doran went flying from the impact and fell to the floor; knocking his head on the side of a coffee table in the process and leaving him out cold.

Scrooge flexed the fist he used to hit Doran as he sneered down at the fallen duck. "Shut up, ya moronic marauder. That's what ya get fer insultin' MY husband!"

Despite everything, Fenton found himself letting out a small chuckle as he wiped away his tears and reached out for Scrooge; being sure to step over his fallen father. "There's the spark I love seein' in ya, Scroogey."

Scrooge met him halfway and held Fenton close; patting him on the back. "There, there now, me treasure. It's all done and over with. This has all just been a bad dream..." he whispered into Fenton's ear.

"Hm...Ya know, I think is the first time I missed one of my soap operas and I don't mind it" commented Iva.

Both husbands looks up at her and rolled their eyes. Fenton wiped at tired eyes sniffled. "Well, it won't happen again, M'ma" he joked. "Why don't we go watch some soap operas, huh? I need to get my mind off all this and..." He looked down at Doran. "I just...cant be around him anymore."

Iva huffed a laugh and stepped over to her son, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "As odd as it sounds to hear you say you wanna watch soap operas, I'm happy to hear it regardless. Come along...The Young and the Featherless is about to start. Let's go see if Darla is gonna marry Darien or not."

Fenton sniffed and nodded. Sending Scrooge a loving look before heading out the door, knowing his paramour would be more than happy to handle his father.

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Several hours later, after speaking with the police and showing proof that Doran was in fact laundering money from Light Cotton and watching the now awake and angry duck be hauled away to jail, Scrooge slowly opened the cracked open door to Iva's bedroom, where she knew she and Fenton were watching soap operas.

Correction: where Iva was watching soap operas.

Both of them were on the bed, but while Iva was sitting up and watching the television, Fenton was sprawled out on her bed, fast asleep. His head was resting on her lap as she intently watched her shows. One hand held the remote while the other subconsciously ran itself through the feathers on top of Fenton's head.

Scrooge smiled at the sight. A commercial began and he knew he was in luck for now Iva would actually respond to him. "How is he?" Scrooge asked quietly.

Iva turned to look at the billionaire before looking down at her son. "His typical cry baby self, but otherwise fine." She brushed away some of the remaining tears on Fenton's cheek. "Could barely watch my shows, he was blubbering so much, but eventually he fell asleep somewhere between Darien committed suicide and when Darla said she was pregnant with his child."

Scrooge nodded, making a face at all the unnecessary information concerning the show. "Well, Doran has been carted off to jail. Turns out they've been lookin' for him. Light Cotton is just one of the many companies he's been embezzling and laundering money from."

Iva looked away, suddenly looking guilty.

"What is it?" asked Scrooge, not missing a beat.

She pursed her lips and glanced down at Fenton before replying, "I...kinda knew he was doing that-"She quickly added before Scrooge could interject. "Not at Light Cotton-But...I was aware that he'd done it back in the day before he left. Or rather-I found out shortly after he left. I never told Fenton because...Well, Fenton's always been a good egg. And I know it would have broken the poor kid's heart to know his father was not only a failure...but a crook too..."

Scrooge nodded passively. "I think it was the wise choice" he admitted. He paused before asking, "If you knew, then why did ya never turn him in? Ya know, reported him?"

Iva shrugged. "First off, I had no idea where he was...And second, I had no proof to go by. I just heard about it through the grape vine of some of his previous co-workers."

Scrooge nodded understandingly, then spoke quietly and uncertainly, "I cannae imagine how Fenton feels about all this. We both know how strongly he feels about obeyin' the law and being a good citizen..."

Iva frowned and nodded. "He's always been like that. It stems from his fear of being a failure. He's always had it in his head he wasn't good enough for Doran and that was why he left, no matter how many times I told him. And I think that's part of the reason Fenton has always been so stubborn and determined to never take 'no' for an answer. To be the best he could be so that he wouldn't end up like Doran..."

"Which is why he prides himself in being Gizmoduck so much..." added Scrooge. Fondly he said, "It's one of the things I admire about him. He's got a heart of gold and gives everything is all...Even if he's drivin' us all mad in the process." Scrooge chuckled.

Neither of them noticed the small smile that appeared on Fenton's face, showing that he was hearing their words.

Scrooge stepped closer and leaned down; looking at his husband. "Fenton, come on now. Wake up."

Iva shook Fenton's shoulder, which caused Fenton to groan and slowly open his eyes. "What time s'it?" mumbled a sleepy Fenton. He didn't want them to know he had been listening. He pushed himself up into a sitting position.

"Time for your hubby and you to go 'adventurin' in your time of need" deadpanned Iva.

Scrooge's face went as red as Fenton's. The older duck cleared his throat loudly. "Achem...Uh...That is...It's time for us to have a talk, Fenton. Come along." They watched as the now flustered billionaire left the room. Scrooge knew he would never be used to Iva's bluntness.

Fenton was quick to follow, leaving Iva happily to her soap operas.

Fenton shut the door behind him, knowing his M'ma wouldn't want to be disturbed. Scrooge immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led him down the hallway and towards their own bedroom. "So, me laddie, how are ya feelin'?"

Fenton shrugged. "Awful. Its been quite the day..."

Scrooge nodded pragmatically.

"I just...In 48 hours I found and lost my P'pa...It's a bit overwhelming..." the younger duck admitted. "I'm just...upset to learn my P'pa was a criminal all this time. And while I know he really did want to get to know me after all these years-The thing that bugs me the most is that he thought I was like him! That I was using you for your money! That's what hurts the most! My own P'pa thought so little of me!"

Scrooge nodded, not knowing what to say. They stopped once they were outside their bedroom. "So, are you going to be alright?"

Fenton nodded. "Oh, sure!" he replied more positively than Scrooge expected. "Does it bother me? Yeah. Am I hurt and disappointed? Sure! But...I still have you, don't I? And as cool as it would have been to have my P'pa in my life-I've lived this long without him, I can keep living without him!"

Scrooge smiled, impressed. "I'm proud of ya, me treasure. And yer right! Ya don't need him! Yer a good man, Fenton!" They stepped into the bedroom before Fenton paused in mid step. He grabbed onto Scrooge's arm and pulled him close.

"Scroogey?"

"Yes, Fenton, what is it?"

"You know I don't love you for yer money, right?" he asked nervously.

Scrooge smiled and gave Fenton a kiss. "I know, lad. I know. You remind me everyday, I assure ya."

Fenton nodded, relieved. He watched as Scrooge stepped further into the room. "Cause you know, I would follow you to the ends of the Earth! I'd follow you if you were the poorest man alive! I'd follow you and cherish you no matter what! Even when you're all old and gray and can barely speak and talk-I'll still love you and hold and-"

"Fenton?"

"Yeah, Scroogey?"

"Shut up."

Fenton smiled broadly, knowing everything was okay again.

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Author's Note: And that concludes this short little story! Thank you everyone for reading this! If you have any questions or comments, feel free to PM me! Thanks! -EricaX


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